Time May Change
by equinechic
Summary: She wasn't the cheerful type of person. and she never cared until now. While stranded at her college, tired, hungry, and lost in the woods, something unreal happens to change her life forever.
1. My Name is Krista

Time May Change

My name is Krista; plain and simple. It's not short for Christine, or Kristina or anything, just Krista. And don't you dare ever call me Crystal or worse, Kristine. In the ninth grade some fool of a teacher made the mistake of calling me Kristine. He never made the mistake again. He must have been new, everyone new better. Kristine was my mother's name. But she's dead now, so there isn't too much to say about her. She died when I was six. It was an awful car wreck. I'll never forgive the man who killed her; my father. I don't have to worry about him anymore though. He was an alcoholic my whole life until he committed suicide when I was in tenth grade, on my sixteenth birthday. I don't know if he even knew it was my birthday, he never paid attention to me, it was my mother who loved me, and he who took her away.

I should be thankful I didn't have to go into foster care or anything. My wonderful father had remarried when I was in the fifth grade. I got to live with my stepmother and her brat child until I graduated and went to college. She spoiled her kid so much, I was the forgotten one in the background, but I didn't care. I guess in some way I was just trying to make the best of things. Whatever. I just didn't care about anything. I learned through time that it's better to be unnoticed than to be in the open. That's why I love college so much, I can have my freedom, or as close as I can get.

It's so different from high school. I had a pretty small school in the cold northern part of New Hampshire. There I knew everyone's name, and they all knew mine. Don't mistake me, I wasn't friends with all of them, quite the contrary, I hated them all equally, and for that they all knew who I was. I never talked to any of them, but I knew their names, I liked to know the field, I tend to observe a lot. I noticed a lot in that school that those half-brained fools would never pick up on and they knew it. They also knew not to cross my path. I found it almost amusing that eighty percent of the time a path would clear when I came down the hall. They never gave me trouble and I never gave them a reason to. At graduation I had nobody there to take my picture for me. The teacher in ninth grade who called me Kristine felt bad and tried giving me some graduation money or something. I told him to buzz off. I didn't need his money or his pity.

The one thing my mom left me was a good amount of money. That combined with a full time job was enough to get me into a pretty decent school out of state in northern Vermont. It's not the best, but it's better than what I had. I remember walking up and getting my diploma, I think the ninety year old guy who fell asleep during his speech got more applause than me. Nobody clapped for me. I didn't want their applause; I wanted them to go away. I didn't even stay for the whole thing, as soon as I got my diploma I got in my car and left. I didn't go out partying or out with friends, I didn't have any. Don't think I went home either. I went to the stables. When my dad remarried, I started taking riding lessons. I guess that was his way of saying sorry for ruining my life even more than before. I loved horses so much I continued taking lessons until he died. My lessons for the most part were just me paying the stable to let me ride whenever I wanted. I took a few lessons, but I believed that first hand experience was the best way to go. They weren't to thrilled at first, but I was a fast learner and they trusted me. Then my dad…well, I already told you what he did, the selfish jerk.

That's when I got a gob at the barn. Not the best cash, but I enjoyed it. The riders never talked to me but the horses did. I understand them and they understand me. My boss, Paula, always said I had a certain way with them. Now at college I ride at a nearby barn. I got roped into joining the riding team there and that's fine enough but I hate putting up with all of the stupid giddy girls. My riding instructor there, Frank, he must love it, thirty college age women at his finger tips. He is still in college himself, a senior this year I believe. His mom and dad own the barn but he does most of the work, including giving lessons. I remember my first lesson very clearly. No one asked me about my riding, if I had any prior experience or anything, they just tacked up a pony (yes a pony) and asked me to walk around the arena nice and gently.

The look on Frank's face when he discovered that I was a very experienced was worth every second of being treated like a green horn beginner. I rode western back then; I found it more relaxing, but Frank pulled me aside one day and said that it was a waste of my money to continue taking western lessons. So then I got out my high boots and breeches from the one summer I had spent showing. I conveniently forgot to mention that where as I was a self taught western rider, I had prior schooling in English and had a few ribbons to show for it. I took one English lesson and got pulled aside again. Frank said he was pulling me from the class. I thought I had done something wrong. He put me in the experienced group, the group that he rides in while giving the lesson. I don't like it there.

The girls in that class are more relaxed on the horses and they talk way too much. But not me, I keep my mouth shut; they do enough talking for ten people. My instructor thinks I am strange since I am so silent. He also yelled at me to 'smile for once' I didn't need to explain to him that there was nothing worth smiling about. I told him that I don't 'do happy.'

The people on campus are quickly learning not to talk to me. The girls on my floor avoid the halls when I am going to and from my room, where I spend much of my time. I once punched a girl out for looking at me cross. I had been having a really bad day though. Now when I walk to classes people don't even look at me. Some of them are starting to cross the street when I go by. I wish I could find that pleasing but part of me is saddened by it.

I suppose it is good though. This year, my sophomore year, while coming back from a play I had to see for a class I got cornered by some guys from school. There were about ten of them, all drunk out of their minds. It was both homecoming and Halloween night so they were all dressed up like fools. They cornered me in an alleyway near the theatre. They thought I was some unsuspecting girl they could get to go 'upstairs' with them. Boy were they wrong. Once they realized who I was they backed off a bit. Thankfully I only had to exchange a few 'kind' words with them to get them to let me go. I was glad to; I really didn't feel like having to clean and re-sharpen my knife that night. Things aren't much better now though, my switchblade is broken. I asked my step-mother for a new one for Christmas but I know I'll just have to go buy one myself. Last year I asked for new arrows for my bow and she got me a pair of socks. Did I mention they were the wrong size?

Even better, this year, I won't be home for Christmas, if you call it home. I don't know where I will be, but not there. Last time I was home we got into a bit of a spat and I left for school early, mostly because she told me to go back and not come home again, I agreed wholeheartedly. It was Thanksgiving weekend and everything was locked up. No dorms were open, the parking lots were empty, not a single sign of life and I was hours away from anyone I knew with nowhere to go. I had four days to kill in my car with no shower, no food, a bottle of water and a ton of homework to do. That brings us to the present; day three, late evening. The dorms will be unlocked tomorrow afternoon, so I only have to last one more freezing night. I've been using my bed sheets as my only blanket while wearing the heaviest socks I could find in my laundry. I'm an odd person, when I am awake and outside, the cold doesn't bother me, so I didn't have any warm sweaters or long-sleeve shirts to slip on, only one three-quarter sleeve shirt that I was wearing when I got stuck and my suede jacket. Everyone else is enjoying a nice Thanksgiving break; I'm stuck in my car freezing.


	2. Don't Touch Me

Time May Change

Winter nights in Vermont are very unforgiving. I found a pack of birthday candles (I'm still trying to figure out why they were there) on the floor of my backseat but I had no matches, not that they would provide much warmth or light. What I did on the other two nights to keep warm was when I got so cold I couldn't possibly sleep, I would take a walk in the woods on the far side of the parking lot I was at that went down the other side of the mountain. The first night I only took one walk, at three thirty in the morning according to my cell phone. The second night I took two walks, one at one thirty and one at four fifteen. My cell phone died some time earlier today but judging by the stars, or what few stars I could see through the quickly oncoming storm clouds, it is actually now the fourth morning, about two in the morning actually, and I had already took three walks. This night has been especially cold.

I shiver as wind blows through the crack I keep in the window for air and I pull the sheet tighter around my body. No use, I'm going for another walk. I can't stand to be in this car another minute longer. I haven't bathed in four days and some odd hours, I am sick of brushing my teeth with my finger, I ran out of water earlier this morning and I am so hungry that I am going to start eating either my seat or the only thing resembling something edible in the woods that I could find which was a small patch of berries, frozen and poisonous!

Stepping out of the car I throw the sheet back in and grab my jacket. _Great_ it just started snowing. I was hoping the storm would hold off until morning. Regardless, I usually like the snow. Rolling my eyes at my luck, usually the most expression you'll get out of me; I lean forward and walk into the now blinding snow.

Five minutes, nope, still can't sleep. Ten minutes, nope, still can't sleep. I stop suddenly. I think I saw something ahead, a light or something, just a flash for a moment. I can't really be sure though, it might have been nothing; however I never trust anything, so I walk forward regardless of this feeling in my gut telling me to stop. I always listened to my gut in the past, why didn't I this time? As I walk forward I see the light again, this time to left, just a flash, almost like a glowing orb. As I spin around I realize that I have no idea where I am. I don't know which way goes back to my car at all.

_Crap!_ I usually have a great sense of direction, believe me, I've had to find my way out of so many places its not even funny. I strain my eyes, usually I have great night vision but with the snow there aren't any stars visible anymore and for some reason everything seems to just be getting darker ad darker. I begin to stumble around. I can't really tell where I am putting my feet and I am sure I would look very amusing to someone looking on. Of course, if there was anyone watching me and not offering their help right now I would seriously kill them, not that I would actually accept their help, or really kill hem. I've never killed anyone before, but I'm not afraid to do it.

The cold snow soaks through my tattered jeans as I fall to my knees. Reaching out towards nothing I manage to stand back up. I see a light again. _No!_ I know what's happening; this must be from not eating anything and barely drinking anything all weekend. That must be it. Now I'm hearing things. I seriously thought I heard a growl. Not a bear, it can't be, I imagined it. A wolf? _No!_ There is nothing there…suddenly a great big dog comes snapping at me from behind a tree. I don't stick around long enough to realize that it indeed is a wolf, or to realize that I was hallucinating. I quickly scramble as best as I can to the nearest tree with a sturdy branch low enough for me to grab.

It's just above my head but I jump and grab it anyways, using my upper-body strength to pull me up and I don't stop there. I keep climbing. As I reach the seventh branch though my hand slips in the slick layer of fresh snow and I miss the branch in my frantic scramble up the tree. As I fall backwards out of the tree I try desperately to grab another branch but my hands are so numb from being out in the cold so long that they can't react nearly fast enough. I fall and lend hard on my side, hitting my head of the frozen ground. My wrist and ankle are killing me. As I realize that there had been no wolf I felt myself slipping away. I would deal with this aching head later, if I ever woke up. And my world suddenly went dark.

_Oh gods my head!_ Don't think, don't move, just wait for the pain to stop. I try taking deep breaths but my chest hurts so bad that I gasp in pain; I must have bruised a rib or two. It was then that my wrist became enflamed in fire again and my ankle throbbed with that dull ache when you just know its going to hurt like crazy to stand on. _Ok, just give it a second or two, let the pain subside, or at least get used to it and then we'll try opening our eyes. Just lie here in the snow for e few seconds and let this blanket keep you warm while you can….wait a minute…blanket!_ My eyes snapped open so fast I think my eyelids got lost in the back of my head. Had my head not been hurting so bad, I probably would have jumped at what I saw.

Staring down at me was a pair of vacant, expressionless eyes. And with them was a man who I could tell by first sight that I shouldn't mess with. He had a hard face with stone eyes, tattoos on both of his cheeks and his messy hair had a few braids in it.

I take a sharp intake of breath, causing me to bite my lip in pain. But I wouldn't let this guy, whoever he was; who was sitting two feet away see me in pain. Determined, I try sitting up.

Instantly regretting putting weight on my wrist I fall back down, my eyes locked into place so as to not let tears out. If my life could get any worse, it would be me dying a painful death and going straight to hell right then and there. I bite my lip so hard it began to bleed. Great, more pain.

"Your wrist is broken; try not to put any weight on it for a while." I glare up at the man who just spoke who know held out a hand to help me up.

I recoil from his hand, hitting the tree in the process. "Don't touch me." I spit. I managed to sit up after a few more seconds of ignoring the pain.

The man sits back on his heels and stands, taking his blanket, no, cloak, with him. "I found you unconscious under this tree a few hours ago. It seemed that you needed some assistance." He puts his cloak back on and waits for me to make my next move.

"Thank you, but I would have been just fine and don't need your help." I lean against the tree heavily as I try to stand up. As soon as I straighten up and have weight on both of my feet my knees gave out and I fall forward. The man quickly sidesteps out of the way and lets me fall face first into the snow, unable to stop my self with my broken wrist. I roll onto my back and am met once again with unforgiving eyes. I know what he is thinking 'you said not to touch you.' I glare at him equally unforgiving as I try once again to stand.

After a minute or so, thanks to my stubbornness, I make it to a standing position leaning heavily against the tree where I collapse against the trunk coughing like there was no tomorrow. After a few minutes the coughing subsides but my chests hurts so much I swear I'm about to die. I hardly ever get sick but when I did, boy was I down. I couldn't believe my luck, sick, hurt, starving, lost and stuck with some guy who, if possible, looked more grimacing than me. And people thought I looked cold.

My world is starting to go in and out of focus again and by the time I realize that I am back on the ground the stranger is by my side helping me roll onto my back. This time his eyes do not seem so unfriendly, but perhaps I mine were begging for help, even though I have convinced myself over the years that I don't need anybody. I guess in truth my eyes held pain. I was completely strung out and this guy was witnessing it. I can tell that he knows something deeper about me, he is staring right at me but I feel like he is staring into my past. He knew I wasn't a normal girl and I could tell that he was different too. He wasn't like the others. And he was trying to help.

"You are injured. Let me assist you." I bow my head in shameful acceptance. It wasn't like I could do anything for myself in the middle of nowhere anyway. He lightly places a hand on my chest.

"What are you doing?" I try to move away but I start coughing again.

"Two bruised ribs on the right, nothing broken. Your ankle is merely strained." His eyes told me more, he knew I was half starved, freezing cold, desperately lost, scared, sick, tired…the list went on, but more importantly, he knew that regardless of what I said, I needed his help. I might not have been willing to admit it, but I did. And I was miserable for it when he bent down and gently picked me up and I didn't even protest.

He gave a short whistle and a grey horse, his I'm assuming, comes into the clearing from where she had been standing waiting patiently. I soon find myself seated before this man riding through the woods. I am actually very happy to be around something I am familiar with that I don't ask any questions.

Mere minutes later I begin to shiver. The chill air is cutting right through my clothes and my body is too tired to put up a fight. After a minute of me shaking in the saddle, the stranger's cloak finds its way back around my shoulders. Most would say thank you, but I just stare straight ahead. I start to think. Why was this guy wearing a cloak? That's not something one usually sees much these days. Come to think of it…

"You wear strange clothing." My eyes slide shut as I speak.

"I could say the same to you, your clothing is unfamiliar."

"What are you talking about; you're the one wearing ancient clothes, at least I have jeans on." I jerk awake as my head began to fall forward.

"I must admit I have no idea as to what you are talking about." I groan as my head bounces as he suddenly nudges his horse to a quick trot. I guess he is done speaking.

My head hurts so unbelievably much and I really need something to eat; a big bowl of ice cream and one of those sandwiches from Arby's with the cheese on it, what is it called, beef and cheddar, how stupid of me. And I can't forget a drink, a big glass of raspberry ice tea, gods, I would kill for something to eat and drink right now and aghh my head hurts and I am too tired to even attempt riding in a decent riding position… "Would you stop trotting him already, my head is going to crack open if you keep it up…" _Just perfect. _Another coughing fit. I somehow manage to sigh between coughs; the man did stop trotting, instead he picks up a canter, at least I can sit that without effort.

I watch the scenery go by in a blur as we make our way out of the woods and into an endless field. If I didn't feel like crap I would be enjoying this. I hate being sick. I seriously can't believe I got sick, last night I was fine…well sort of, go figure I am hurt too. Even if I weren't injured, I highly doubt I would be doing much walking. It's a good thing that…_wait a minute; I never got his name… _"Who are you?"

"Tristan."

_Simple, just like me…I can understand why people find that unnerving. _"Where are you going? _Please don't be a murderer; I would hate to go out without a fight. No, he would have killed me already, wouldn't he have?_ I try shaking my head clear of these thoughts. Ow, it hurts.

"Hadrian's Wall." He turns his horse suddenly off the field and back into the woods.

"Hadrian's Wall?" The trees begin to blur together once again. Judging by what I have seen so far I can pretty much guess he isn't going to be saying anything else. So I start to think again. Hadrian's Wall; that was the wall in Britain long ago, I learned that in my British Literature class my freshmen year. That was also where the supposed legendary Arthur and his knights were stationed initially. Tristan… Hadrian's Wall… _oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! _My head is starting to spin again, and my vision suddenly got fuzzy. I gasp for air trying to keep calm and as I exhale I fall forward into the horse's neck, and would have fallen on the ground had Tristan not caught me with his arm. I blink as the ground rushes below me and soon pass out.


	3. For the Love of Food Lay Off!

**Thank you Black Knight63 for your awesome review. Because of you I have updated again, even though I wanted to wait and think more about what I actually wanted to write. Sorry if anyone doesn't like it, but I'm doing the best I can since it is after midnight I am doing homework for a morning class tomorrow while writing this! I know, why am I wasting my time with homework? Anyway, I hope its ok, tell me what you think, just don't be too mean. I'll sick my horsetail eating miniature donkey on you!**

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Time May Change

Somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness I realized that I couldn't breathe. I was gasping for breath; air just didn't want to seem to come. My eyes flew open as I sat up, unaware of my surroundings, and made a tremendous attempt to hold myself up on my side so I could breathe. My arms quickly gave out though and I found myself lying face down on the bed heaving as the air would not come.

Unseen by my eyes, someone quickly stood from a lone chair at the other side of the room and stepped to the bed. Arms were swiftly under me helping me to sit up and breathe. They reached behind them and grabbed a cup, helping me hold the cup in place as I was allowed after so long to take slow careful sips of water. _Ah, water, how I missed you_. I nearly dropped the cup as I sagged against the person's arms exhausted after two or three sips. I felt myself being carefully lowered back onto the pillow.

My eyes slowly began to focus and I saw blurrily that the man helping me was Tristan. My head sank into the pillow as I continued gasp for air. I must be hyperventilating or something. It reminds me of what I guess it would be like to have an asthma attack, I've never seen one so I wouldn't know. I remember one time my freshman year I was really sick one night; I was up all night gasping for air like this, but it was because my throat was so swollen and my chest so sore that I was having a difficult time breathing. I thought my roommate was going to wake up with a corpse in the morning, though I don't think she would have cared if I died. This, this was different. I don't know what's going on, why, or what's going to happen to me, and I am actually scared.

Air seemed to be coming scarcer and scarcer. My chest and surprisingly stomach hurt. It was then I realized that I hadn't eaten in four days. "Please…please…haven't..…" I spoke with great labor. Somehow he got the message though. I'm not sure how, but he did. I must have looked something awful. Through my dimmed eyesight I vaguely saw Tristan cross to a table where I assume he had been sitting and returned with an apple in hand. Seeing that I was in no condition to do anything with it he cut off a thin slice and held it out to me.

Weakly I reached for it but my hand fell back on the bed and I continued to gasp as my body began to shudder, my head starting to swim. I felt him reach and place it in my hand. Slowly I began to crunch on it; it was a really good apple. Another piece found its way into my hand and I began to chew hungrily once more between labored breaths, feeling some strength return. A third piece was thrust into my hand but as I finished I began to choke a bit and started coughing badly. I leaned forward in attempt to ease myself and found myself leaning against Tristan's arm. He eased me down once more and I found myself focusing in on his eyes. He handed me another piece of apple.

"One more, come on." He sat the rest of the apple on the table with the cup. My eyes involuntarily stared at the cup for a second or two before he had my attention again. He leaned forward placing a hand on my forehead feeling for any excessive heat. "You're burning up."

My body was still shaking, I think not from the fever but from exhaustion, but I was starting to get a little more air and I wasn't feeling quite so lightheaded. I went to feel my forehead but I was so tired I couldn't. I let out a moan. Never had I felt so weak before. I tried taking a few deep breaths before making another attempt at talking. The room tilted once or twice as I lay there. "Please more…more water."

Tristan turned and reached for the wooden cup. "Sit up."

I made a great attempt to sit up, regardless of the fact that I felt like there was a hundred pound weight on my chest, but I stopped midway, paused for a second and then slowly collapsed sideways into Tristan and almost off the bed. A slight moan escaped again as I felt him once more help me to sit. Leaning heavily against him he helped me to finish what water was left. As I drained it of its contents my breathing finally began to even out a bit, not quite normal yet. It felt like an eternity since I woke struggling for air, though in reality it was probably only fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. The fit robbed me of any strength I had left. My eyes slid shut against my protests and I felt myself slump against his arm. I was fast losing the battle to stay awake and I knew it. The words "thank you…" escaped from my lips as I slipped back into the oblivion.

I was instantly awake, eyes open as I heard a door creak open. I turned my head slightly to see a tall man sitting in a chair beside me. I opened my mouth but nothing came out but another series of coughs. The man who seemed almost statue like helped me sit up and lean to the side so I could try to ease my fit. As they ended I fell flat on my stomach, still half way out of the bed with my chest once again heaving. Fortunately my ribs didn't hurt near as bad this time. I vaguely remembered the night before, if it even was night…was this morning?

A second or so later I felt myself being shifted back under the covers and on to my back. I opened my eyes again to see two men by the bed. I didn't have to ask who the other man was; it was like someone planted the name in my mind.

"Arthur…" I closed my eyes again, still trying to catch my breath. Through the narrow slit under my eyelashes I saw him nod to the tall one who in turn stood and left, the door once again creaking behind him.

"So, you are awake." Arthur sat down in the now vacant chair.

"Where am I?" I struggled to sit up and, with no thanks to Arthur, managed to after a few attempts. Tristan must have told him not to touch me.

"Hadrian's Wall. Tristan brought you in sometime last night. The sun is beginning to set again; you have been out, according to Tristan, for over a day, with the exception of your ordeal last night, if you can recall. Tristan said you were pretty bad off." He handed me a wooden cup filled with what I hoped was more water.

"He said he found you half starved, injured, sick and he can only assume lost. Can you remember what happened lady?"

"Oh no, first off, it's Krista, no lady stuff. Secondly, gah, my head hurts so much I can't even think straight. I remember walking in the woods because I was too cold to sleep. I was stuck at my…_I can't say school..._ stuck in the woods with my horse who…threw me…" such an unbelievable lie…come to think of it, I hardly ever fall off! I think horses have fallen beneath me more than I've fallen off…that would have to work, shut up and keep making crap up… "He fell on me, knocking me out. I awoke all alone, and terribly dazed. I easily got myself lost." Fortunately Arthur was buying it.

"I didn't have any supplies, just a bit of water. I tried walking but I got hopelessly lost in the snow. On the third night, fourth morning really, I think I was seeing things. I thought I was being attacked…by a wolf I think…I don't know. I climbed up a tree to get away and must have slipped. I remember the feeling of falling for what seemed an eternity. Next thing I remember was waking up at the base of the tree with…um, Tristan, staring at me." I bowed my head as I finished, I hate talking that much, especially to people I don't trust, if you don't classify that as everyone. I guess I should have been thankful, if it weren't for Tristan I probably would have died, not that I would really complain there. I sank back down on the bed and closed my eyes. I soon felt the back of Arthur's hand on my forehead. Darn it, what do I have to do to get these people to leave me alone, stupid men!

"Your fever broke early this morning but we can't be too careful. You should stay in bed a few more days and rest…"

"I want out now." No way in heck I was staying in bed.I don't even listen to doctor's orders to stay in bed. If arthur had seen me dragging myself around after the incedent with the tree, he would know better than to suggest staying in bed. i never stay in bed, especially if a doctor tells me too,of course, I stay away from doctors at all costs normally, why would now be any different.

"You are still recovering; I think it wise to stay abed for at least another day. Then we can find you your own room and Tristan can have his room back."

"No, I am not being bed ridden, it just isn't happening." I sat up defiantly as I spoke. It took everything I had to not appear as weak or ill as I felt at the moment.

"As you wish, I will send someone up to help you dress into something suitable. In the meantime, there is bowl of stew on the table as I can only assume you are hungry."

I eyed the bowl hungrily as he stood and left. I heard no footsteps going down the hallway and I knew he was still standing outside the door. I looked across the room where the bowl was. _So that's his plan. _He was waiting to see if I could make it to the table. Then when he hears me crash to the ground he would come in saying I can't even stand up and order me to bed. No dice, I am making it to that bowl, I want my food!


	4. I'm Not A Woman, I'm Pissed

**Ok so, another chapter...I think I hear someone in the back of the room clapping...ok then. My brain is getting a little dry here, so I might need to slow down on my updates...but I am sure some friendly encouragement might speed it up a little. Alright then, so on with the I don't own anything stuff. Um...I don't own anything...except Krista, but she's scary, so I'm gonna give her to my roommate for her birthday. Hahahaha!**

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Time May Change

I am going to kill and skin whoever designed this room so big. It took me at least three seconds to put each foot in front of me and another five just to make sure it was really on the floor before I would put enough weight on it to bring my other foot forward. And did I mention that my ankle felt like it was going to snap in half with every step? Finally after what seemed like hours I slumped into the lone chair at the table and greedily began eating. I grinned as I heard Arthur sigh and walk away.

For first century cooking, this was great stew, I ate the whole bowl in a matter of minutes, and it was a big bowl. Of course I then regretted eating so fast as my stomach was so used to be empty that it nearly erupted. I pushed the bowl away in disgust and stood as the door opened to reveal a frustrated looking red head with a baby at her hip.

"I'm so sorry dear, I told Arthur that I have to stay with the kids but he said you refused to wait so I brought number eight with me. Now what can I get you that you are in such a hurry?"

She walked forward and sat the one year old on the table next to the bowl where the child instantly began playing with the spoon.

"Well, I don't know…" wow, that face looks agitated. "Some clothes I guess, so I can leave the room."

The woman's face softened as she took in my ragged jeans and dirty shirt that no one had bothered to remove. She broke into a soft laughter and stepped forward.

"The name's Vanora, wait here and I'll get you something. I'll have to borrow it from one of the barmaids mind you, you're a tiny little thing, but I'll only be a second. Watch him while I'm gone please." Before I could protest she was already gone.

I hate kids. I really do. I sat down at the table again and bunched my fingers in my hair in a very frustrated manner. Twenty years old and I had managed to avoid baby sitting until now. Good thing she would be back in a few minutes, otherwise I'm not guaranteeing there would still be a number eight when she got back. I stared forward at the happy toddler as he smacked the spoon off the bowl time and time again. I wish I could have seen my face, I am sure I looked cross enough to kill a baby rabbit with just the look I had. Too bad it doesn't work on kids…

"Ok, this is the best I could do." Vanora floated back in the room holding a dress.

"Oh no, I don't do dresses." I backed up hesitantly.

"Come now dear, it isn't all that bad." She held it up as though she were admiring it. Disgusting; a wench's dress. I have no choice apparently, not if I want to get out of this room. Like I was complying with being put on death row, I stepped forward.

"Great, I'll just put this aside while we get you cleaned up." I swear if she tries anything funny with my hair I will kill her and her lousy brat kid.

An hour and a half later I finally stepped out of the room. It was completely dark out side by then, so at least no one out doors would see how ridiculous I looked. Thankfully Vanora settled with pulling part of my hair up out of my face part way and leaving it at that. I still wanted to kill her for messing it up though. She tried putting ribbons in it…tried. I brought my broken switchblade with me, I sneaked it in the folds of the dress somehow, I don't even know how I managed it. I stepped into the moonlight cautiously, my ankle still hurt and I hated to admit that Arthur was probably right about staying in bed; the stairs nearly did me in.

I look toward the stables but Vanora grabs my arm and pulled me to a brightly lit building that was omitting way too much noise for my liking. A tavern, figures. I step inside and tried to sink into the crowd unnoticed. Unfortunately, the Roman soldiers didn't find me quite so unnoticeable. A dirty drunk man grabbed me by the waist and before I knew it had me against the wall his lips getting way too close to mine and I didn't have to guess where he was about to put his hands. Before he could reach his goal though, he suddenly found himself against the wall, four inches of steel pressed against his gut. My eyes cold and unnerving got the message through clear enough; another move and you're getting gelded. A slight jerk of the blade to get my message the respect it deserved and I left the guy sweating against the wall.

As I turn back to the crowd I saw Vanora smirking. "Well done, I hate these bloody Romans," she whispers as I walk past her. I make my way deeper into the crowd eventually ending up with Tristan and a few other men who were throwing knives at a target. I sweep behind one of them, taking a knife from him without him even realizing I was there. Tristan saw it though and he pulls the stupid man out of the way just in time as I throw it full force at the target, hitting it dead center, the blade deep in the wood.

One of them, with long curly dirty blonde hair starts to laugh. "Watch it Galahad, she might get you next time."

"Very funny." He stepped forward to retrieve his knife but couldn't pull it out. He gave it a good jerk and it came flying out, almost dumping him his butt. The blonde man steadied him and then turned to me.

"You have good aim Krista. I am Gawain." So wonderful of Arthur to have already introduced me to his bloody knights. I glare at him and walk away; I had enough of these bar fools. I grab the apple Tristan was eating out of his hand and made my way to the door, cutting the apple with my knife as I went; it was time to see the horses.

I finished the apple soon after entering the stable. It was very good; the big juicy green kind that leaves you looking for more. I sat down in front of a stall and stared at a big black horse that was nodding his head at me. I had given him the last piece of apple, generous me, and he was looking for more. Something told me this was the pathetic man named Galabad's horse, so I felt bad for him.

I cross to another stall. This was Tristan's horse if I remembered correctly. I approach and the horse shakes his head as if confirming my thoughts. "Hey boy, how are you? No, I don't have to worry about you; I can tell Tristan knows what he is doing with you." I hear the gentle crunching of someone walking on hay and I spin around, knife bared to meet Tristan's gaze. I stare him down for a few seconds before he breaks the silence.

"You handled that roman pretty well for a woman as sick as you."

"I'm not a woman and I'm not sick; I was merely unsettled last night."

"You're still recovering, you should be resting now."

"I'm fine; I don't need your help." I raise my blade to a more menacing position as I stand my ground.

"When I found you it certainly looked like you could use some help."

"And I thank you for it, but I am perfectly fine now and I think you need not concern yourself. I am perfectly well." I bite my lip hoping he wouldn't see how exhausted I truly am; the barn was starting to spin now it felt like being on the inside of a snow globe when it's being shaken.

"I think you lie." _Darn it!_ "You are not fine. Your forehead is bathed in sweat; your fever is returning, your eyes are clouded, I can see exhaustion in them no matter how hard you try to hide it." He stepped closer so that my knife was only an inch away from his chest. "You are straining yourself just standing here; I can see your legs shaking with fatigue. I doubt you could take another step."

Insults! He is insulting me! I draw myself up defiantly and step forward, knowing I can prove him wrong. I put my weight on the wrong foot however. I was suddenly crashing forward onto his chest. My blade thankfully slipped from my hand before I accidentally stabbed the one person who didn't see right past me. Too bad, he was really starting to piss me off.


	5. Hay is For Horses, Not 'Sleeping'

**Ok, well this is the last bit that I have on my computer. My brain is getting totally fried from all the work I have to do and I not doing any of it. Why? Because I'm an obsessed freak who can't learn when to get off of this fanfic site! Well, I guess I am done complaining...oh no, wait, my back really hurts! (Stupid horse had to go and fall on me in eighth grade...grrrrrr) So I need to get to work on my work for my Euro Lit class, where I actually did learn some about the Romans (That and my know it all history major boyfriend) and I have to do work for my Amer. Lit class and my German class and my writing class and my Cinema class...ok then, you get the picture. So I don't know when I'll be updating again. Perhaps with some encouragement...hint hint (Review please!) Well, time to hit the books! (hits head off the Aeneid) Yeah, that hurt!**

**Don't own it, and wouldn't want to, cause it would never fit in my dorm room!**

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Time May Change

When I woke again I found myself lying once again in Tristan's room. I slowly turned my head and saw him sitting in the chair staring at the fire. I opened my mouth to speak but he cut me off.

"Morning, glad to see you are feeling so well." _How did he know I was awake? _He turned and looked at me; I stared back equally as hard. This man did not intimidate me. He stood and crossed the room. Holding out a bowl of stew he waited for me to sit up. _How did he know I was hungry? _My stomach let out a low grumble. _Friggin stomach!_ I took the bowl wordlessly and quickly began to devour it.

I finished the food in a most uncultured manner, but I just wanted to eat and feel food in my stomach again so badly that I didn't even think about it. I let out a most harmonious belch that could be heard down the hall and set the bowl down on the side table.

"I want to see the stables." I swung my feet around to the floor and made to stand.

"You saw them last night." He was sitting at the table glaring at me, eating an apple."

"It was dark, I wasn't even there long." I shift my weight so I settle back down comfortably on the bed and wait for him to leave me alone. These stupid knights are really starting to get on my nerves.

"You might get hurt again. Horses are big animals…"

"I know how to ride! I could probably ride better than all you bumbling fools put together! You stupid Romans!" I shout in protest, jumping to my feet. Ow, that kind of hurt. I stare angrily at Tristan and I see his eyes narrow…I'm in trouble now.

He stands and crosses to the bed and looks me squarely in the eyes. "I am no Roman." He mutters before turning away. "And you owe me an apple." And then he was gone.

"Well, too bad," I shout after him, "cause, cause your not getting it!" oh just shut up Krista, like he actually cares about the stupid apple. Clearly you said something to really set him off. Yeah but what do I care? I have a conversation with myself in my head again, nothing unusual there. I sit down and stare at the wall thinking. What do I care? Because he helped me, well, saved me really, is that why I care? Or is it that he's the first person who didn't just walk away from, who cared just a little? He actually sees me…I guess I shouldn't look right through him. but there is no way I am giving him an apple!

Without another thought, I turn and leave the room. I try to limp as quietly as possible, which is kind of hard on the stone floors in the hall. I suppose it could be worse though, they could be wood and they would probably be old and squeaky by now. I hear the voice of Arthur down one corridor and I flatten myself against the wall. The airhead isn't going to tell me to get back to bed again! I wait and I listen for an opportunity to sneak past the hallway where I hear him and another man talking.

"Who is she? Not some peasant woman clearly. "

"Her name is Krista, I don't know much else but I know what you are thinking and it won't work." I risk a peak around the corner and see this man named Lancelot grinning. I read about him enough that he is a jerk who causes trouble between Arthur and his wife. Still, I can't really hate him till I know him, right?

"What am I thinking Arthur, you who knows me so well?"

"You know exactly what I am talking about. Save yourself the trouble on this one I beg you, you'll not get her in bed without a fight, and I fear you would come out for the worse." I hear Arthur laughing at his jest. Perhaps he knows me better than he thought; I will not be getting in bed with anyone. Would Lancelot really suggest such a thing?

"No even if I give her the old charm?" Ok, now I hate him. I really ate him. I resist the urge to step out of the shadows to teach them a lesson and sneak down the other hall instead, leading me directly outside.

I give the place a quick look over, decide I hate it, and head over to the stables. Inside I find Tristan tacking up his horse. It appears he is ignoring me. I do believe I pissed the man off. Good. I walk to the opposite side of the horse and gently rub my hand on the mare's soft cheek. Nice and soft, he takes good care of her. I see Tristan give me a 'hate' glare from over the saddle.

Tristan's silence for some reason bothers me, I don't know why. I start thinking about what I said to anger him. I called him Roman, that's right. That pissed him off, I thought he was a roman, yet he denies it. No wait a minute, in my Brit Lit class I distantly recall my professor saying something about the early Roman Empire in Brittan and how they tried to take control of the land that was full of uncivilized people. I also remember from my European Lit class last semester that the Romans often used men from other countries previously conquered to fight their battles for them. One country in particular that I believe had men stationed in Brittan was…fudge sickles, what was it? Sarmatia! He must be from there. I can understand why being called a Roman would be an insult now; that sucks!

"You're from Sarmatia, aren't you?" I try making peace so I don't have endure his 'hate' glare anymore.

"We aren't called the Sarmatian knights for nothing." He turns and leads the mare outside without looking up.

"You know, I hate the Romans too!" I see about ten Roman men stop and glare at me. This is why I never talk, I get myself in trouble. Frustrated and follow Tristan and hold his horse unnecessarily as he mounts up. "I never would have fought for them; I'd rather die then fight for someone else. I'm the only person I care about."

He looks down at me with an understanding glance. "Perhaps, but there's no honor in that." And he rode off.

I watched him ride away and I started thinking again. No honor, what do I care about honor? I guess maybe I would feel better for myself if I had something good to stand for, even if it is something as simple or important as honor.

I was still standing there when Arthur came up to me with Lancelot and some other guy that I don't recognize. I clench my fists when I see Lancelot but I force a smile and greet them through gritted teeth.

Arthur introduces Lancelot to me, who tried to kiss my hand, key word there being 'tried' and then the other man, whose name is Jols. I nod blankly at the two without speaking and make to walk away when Arthur says something most wonderful.

"Would you like a horse to ride? You are in front of the stables." I look back and give a half smile which means a big yes in my book and tell him "why the heck not, I could use some fun."

He arches his eyebrows in response ad says nothing. I decide to spare myself the trouble of being placed another pony and being told to 'walk him nice and gently' and tell him that I am pretty experienced and want a challenge. He gives me Lancelot's horse.

His horse is 1) very pretty, I mean very pretty and 2) very headstrong. Good thing I'm a good rider, otherwise I might have had a difficult time riding him. Instead I soon have him in a wonderful collected canter and working on lateral work. After half an hour though I decide I shouldn't wear out the beast in case he is needed for something big and I take him back in to untack him.

Sa I begin untacking Jols suddenly comes in and offers to do it for me. I glare at coolly. "I can handle it." I say shortly and slide the saddle off his back with ease. Jols shrugs and walks away. "Just trying to be helpful…" Whatever, I can do it on my own. I put the saddle back where Lancelot had gotten it from, I can feel his stare from the hayloft where I know he is hiding with a barmaid.

"All good for you Lancelot? I yell, surprising him as he didn't know I knew he was there. He tries to act like he isn't there, he's probably in the middle of some 'intimate' act but I don't care. "Ok well you just enjoy banging that whore; I'll just take care of your horse for you." I hear him sit up quickly, nearly falling from the loft.

"She's not a whore!" he yells very childishly. I could care less about his opinions of those stupid wenches. I fetch a cloth and start rubbing the horse down when Tristan reenters the barn, mare in tow.

"You rode Lancelot's horse?" he asks, somewhat disinterested yet I know he is curious to see if I could handle him.

"Lancelot was a little busy." I nod towards the loft where there is a slight rolling noise being omitted.

He begins taking her saddle off as I finish and I leave the rag there for him as I put the stallion away and take his bridle off. "No problem, good horse." I pick the rag back up and help Tristan clean his mare up.

"Thought you only cared about yourself." He says without looking up from the hoof that he was examining.

"I do, I just like horses." I hand him the rag and leave the stable. I don't really know where I am going, but I wanted to get away from Tristan and Lancelot before they tempted me to kill something.


	6. Mug in Hand, Tongue in Cheek

**Sorry it tooks so long, I've been really busy with school and scheduling classes for next semester and what not. I have a German test on Monday and I don't think I'm gonna get a 99 like last time...no definately not...uh oh! Well, I am half asleep and I still have to do my homework for my morning classes sothis chapterisn't proof read. Sorry, I am just too beat, I hope the thing even makes sense to you guys. By the way, a big thanks to Artemis, who let me know that I accidentally wrote that I 'ate' Lancelot, instead of 'hate'. Thanks again for that. Also, my boyfriend just so happened to be doing a historiography (a really annoying kind of paper) and the requirements were that it had to be something Roman, but since he is 90 british and loves anything brittan, especially from 1400-1600, he did it on the Rominazation of Brittan, so I got some kind of interesting info that I tried to incorporate in the story. And yes, the part about what Woad is true, I just had to put that in! Also, I learned the part about the languages in my German class, so big ups to Dr. Keiser for actually teaching me something! Well, I'm gonna go slam my head in a door until I either pass out or feel like reading anotherwonderful book of the Aeneid...somebody kill me...and then hopefully get some sleep, a word that I'm not too familiar with these days...perhaps its cause I never get off of my stinkin computer...**

**Yea, I own King Arthur...the movie that is...Owning Tristan would be nice though, maybe then the girls on my dorm floor would shut up and stop waking me up inthe middle of the night drunk out of their minds. Look, I'm not trying to go parental on anyone, but when you get to college, don't drink...you might have someone like me in your dorm and I WILL track you down! (Would you girls shut up already!) I hate college!**

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Time May Change

That night at the tavern I could feel Lancelot's eyes on me. I inwardly grinned with the satisfaction of knowing they were eyes of loathing…but still wanting, which kind of pissed me off. I, however, won't let it bother me, not when I have an opportunity to get drunk out of my mind.

I bite my lip in frustration as I reach the bar; I don't have any money. I turn to walk away when I hear someone close by slap money down on the counter and say "two Vanora." I look up and Tristan nods to me. "Anyone, even a girl, who can handle Lancelot's horse that well deserves a drink."

"I thought I felt your eyes watching me from the forest. So why'd you ask if I rode him when we were in the barn?" I walk over to a secluded table and sit down with him.

"Just seeing if you liked him." he raises his eyes. They are expressionless as they always are, but I know he's asking me silently if I did like his horse. I look back at him and tell him yes, I did like his horse. Then I knock back the mug.

I screw my face in distaste at discovering that it wasn't ale as I had expected but wine. That's

Right; they didn't drink much beer, sorry, ale back then. I look inside my mug; half full. Well, then that's half a glass to learn to love wine, right?

A few good laughs and a couple of mugs later and me and Tristan were pretty happy people. We weren't really saying much, just drinking and watching the other people milling around, commenting on who was doing what and how drunk Bors was. I hadn't met Bors before. Apparently he's the man behind number eight and all the other little brats. After all the knights were pointed out I asked Tristan where they were all from. Although he wasn't sure exactly, he told me they were all from Sarmatia. That really sucked but I shrugged it off and said whatever. Tristan seemed grow darker after that, if that's possible.

"Perhaps it's easy for you to not think twice but we are far from anything that has ever been home. Instead, Brittan is what we have to call ours, and Brittan is the bloody Romans. We may all day tomorrow not knowing what home is."

I look up surprised; this is the deepest thing I've heard him say. "Trust me; I know what its like to be far from home." I never really understood home, never cared to either, but being thousands of miles away in a place centuries before I should be in existence has made me appreciate it a lot more.

"What would you know about this, were are you from?"

Even drunk I know better than to say something stupid. "Home, home was ever special but it's so distant, it seems over a thousand years away." Not a lie, that's for sure. "I don't know if I'll ever see it again, and I'm not sure I want to, I just want to establish something as my own, maybe be somebody, instead of a thing like I'm used to….sorry, I'm not, I'm usually not this…" I peer down in my empty mug; never have I been this open…I should really stop drinking wine.

"You appear to be even drunker than me." Tristan mumbles. Standing he summons Vanora over. "Give us two more." He smiles and sits back down. "Vanora's from Sarmatia too. She wants to get out of here as much as any of us."

"Is everyone here either Roman or Sarmatian? I mean, aren't there any native Brittan civilians around here?"

Tristan makes a face and finishes his wine as Vanora sets two more mugs down. She walks away and he stares at me; cold and empty as usual, I could really start to like this guy. "Britons aren't civilized. The only good thing the Romans have done for this island is bring clothing that covers more than half the body."

"So people don't wear clothes here?"

"Not the Woads. "

"Woads?" I lean forward interested in this new type of people.

"Woads, they are the people who were here first, they often rebel against the Romans for taking their land, which I know you can understand why. As a people they are a bit crude. They were clothing that barely covers them, mostly just breeches, if that. They speak a different language and live in the woods in rough houses. No, they are not civilized."

"Why are they called woads, I never heard of that word before."

"Woad is the name of the blue pigment they use to cover their skin, especially during times of battle. They almost always have it on so they came to be known as Woads." He takes a sip of wine and puts his mug down a little heavily.

"What is there language, I mean, wasn't the language of the Britons supposed to come from Germany?"

"Where?" He peers over his mug that he is once again raising to his lips.

"Germany…um," I mentally curse to myself about a dozen times. Ok, English and German are common languages because of the Germanic tribes that came form the area now called Germany that invaded Brittan after the Romans. Their language rubbed off on the people and they took it as their own, however I am in big trouble because that hasn't happened yet. I stall and take a long swig of wine, almost draining it. I see him waiting for an answer.

"Um, I thought that they would have picked up on some the language that is used on the island."

"They do know some Latin…"

I take a quick gulp of wine. "Right well, aren't there other peoples invading the island…like jutes, or Celtics, or Saxons…"

"Saxons are filth." That's the ticket, that's one I needed to save my sweet little behind. 'They kill Saxons, not befriend them."

"Oh, right, I just thought…um, well I heard that there were Saxons starting to invade slowly…and…I'm out of wine, are you out of wine?"

"Another?" he raises an eyebrow at me as I sway slightly.

"No, I think I'm good." I stand and make my way out of the tavern, shoving two drunken Romans and one very lustful Lancelot out of the way as I do. When I get outside however, and start to walk to my room, I realize I still don't have a place to stay. I turn to walk back in, hoping to find Arthur, hopefully sober (he doesn't seem like he would drink much) and find out where I am sleeping. Tristan however seems to be thinking the same as he steps out and shakes his head.

"He isn't here; he's doing business with his God."

Rather than disturb him I tell Tristan I'll wait for him or, since I am feeling drowsy from all the wine, I'll go sleep in the stables.

"Too cold for that, you can take my bed again, I like sitting in front of the fire anyways."

I look at Tristan in surprise at his kind offer; he better not be trying to make nice to me. I scowl and narrow my eyes at him. He looks back, denying that he is trying anything. "With all this time we are spending together, people are going to start thinking there is something going on between us."

"Good thing there's not." He turns and starts walking back to his room, me following quietly at his heels. We make the trip in silence until we step inside the room. Outside his room window there is a bird squawking noisily.

"You should keep a bird, a flacon, or no, a hawk. It would help with your scouting."

"How did you know I was a scout?"

"I didn't, you just told me." He glares and kneels down at the hearth, getting a fire going. "You seemed like a good person to be a scout, I could tell in the tavern; very observative."

"You're not bad yourself." The fire is starting to pick up and he adds some more wood before dragging a chair over. "You gonna sleep like that?" he asks as he sees me start to unmake the bed.

"Why not, its not mine." He shrugs and turns away as I climb in his bed and fall asleep, my switchblade in my hand just incase he tries some funny stuff while I'm sleeping. I look over at him staring at the fire. I wanted to say something, but I wasn't sure what. Before I could think of anything though, I fell asleep.


	7. An Interlude: A Dream

**Just so you know, this chapter is probably going to be temporary. It is just a little filler for the weekend because I HAVE TO DO MY HOMEWORK! So I am grounding myself temporarily from Fanfic until Monday. I will be on to check on things, so please don't hesitate to review or write with any ideas since I don't have the whole thing written yet...I just won't be writing or posting anything for a few days. This chapter is very short, and meant just for fun. Don't read into to it to much if you don't like it, I just typed it up quick before my German class. So enjoy and sorry for the delay...and again...I like reviews, they keep me happy at night when I should be sleeping! Sorry again about this! If anyoneactually likes this though, I will keep it and just make the chapter longer...not more dream stuff though.**

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Time May Change

I dreamed during the night. I was on a horse, galloping…there were many other people with me. I could make out Bors; he was carrying all eight of his kids on his horse, how I don't know. I saw Lancelot, half naked, on a little brown pony trying to keep up, Arthur on a big Grey horse, Jols was running behind him trying to keep up, mumbling something about the horse needing another leg before he can be ridden…it didn't really make sense. Then there was Tristan. He was galloping next to me on his mare, ahead of him raced a wild and strong Hawk. The hawk screeched, and I woke up.


	8. Hungover and Not Happy

**Look, anpther chapter! Yea. Unfortunately I was distracted for much of the weekend, Which is why I told my dad that I shouldn't have come home...ahhh. But I did get to ride my horses...oh, and my parents got direct tv, so my Internet wasn't working right on my lap top, grrrrrr. Well, I did get my dad to hang something up in our horse trailer, and I did get to go see Ice Age II. Hee heee, that was awesome! Oh, and my car died somewhere along the way...yippee...ughh. So, in this chapter Krista gets all moody, apparatnly alcohol and her don't get along well the next day. Also, the part about Via Sacrae is something I learned in church yesterday, however my pastor didn't actually spell it, so that's just a guess. I asked my boyfriend, whom I swear knows everything, especially about history (stupid history majors...grrr) and he helped clean up the details on it and give me some better info...however, I didn't think to ask him about the spelling, so if anyone happens to know if that's wrong and how it is spelled, feel free to let me know. Now, I am going to grab some really quick breakfast and go to class! Bye!**

**Oh, I don't own King Arthur (just the movie) and I don't own a person named Krista, just her character...in fact I don't own anything...including those awsome suede boots I want SOOOOO badly for larping...(pouts) all well, enjoy!**

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Time May Change

I woke up early; the sun saw still coming up. I saw the brightening sky, realized it was early and had every intention of rolling back over and falling back asleep when the door opened and Tristan walked in.

"Sun's up."

"But I'm not." I sink down deeper, pulling the covers over my head, and roll over.

"You shouldn't sleep with a blade that is broken." I hear the distinct clink of metal being placed on the nearby table and I look up to see my switchblade lying half closed before me.

"Where'd you get that, that isn't yours!" I remember that I had dropped it when I had passed out but he had given it back because I distinctly recall holding it as I fell asleep last night…its about the only thing I remember, but I do remember it. "Why did you take my knife?"

"You dropped it when you were sleeping, I picked it up. You could have hurt yourself."

"What do you care?" I demand, sitting up with instant regret. Ow, my head hurts! I see his eyes shine in amusement at my antics and it angers. I stand and walk to him menacingly, picking up my knife as I do. "Don't touch my stuff. Now get out!"

"You know," he states with unnerving calmness, "this is my room."

"I have to change, I refuse to wear this stupid dress any longer, and I have to bathe I smell as bad as you and the other knights." I spit out through grit teeth.

"By all means go ahead, I'll just sit and stoke the fire to keep you warm while you bathe, the wash tub is over there." Again he speaks calm and steady…I mutter a curse in aggravation…why couldn't he have a hangover?

"Fine." What do I care if he sees my naked body, I'm sure its nothing new…besides I've had boyfriends…granted they never lasted more than a week, but they stared at me like crazy…that is until I socked them for looking where they shouldn't…no wonder they all disappeared so fast. I glare at him silently, sending little messages of hate with my eyes as he kneels in front of the fire, pushing the few burning ambers around from what remained. I started to put wood on but stopped.

"Do you want some help getting the water?" he asks without turning.

"What…oh, right…yea, that would be great." I forgot that water didn't come from sinks around here these days and inwardly groan…this is going to be a terribly cold bath I'm sure, cause I'm not waiting for it to heat, I am too filthy for that. When was the last time I bathed?

I trudge down the hall after him and run into Arthur in the process. I see him giving me an eye, taking in my disheveled appearance' wrinkled dress, messy hair, and sour hung-over face and he shakes his head. I can see the wheels in his head turning. He's thinking about how I'm not suited to be a woman, that I could never be a good Christian like him, that no man would marry me, not that I want one too, and that I am a drunken mess. Well I have a word or two for Arthur, he and his God can stop judging me. The man doesn't know me and I know more about him through history than he'll ever know. I grin to myself as I process all these hate thoughts. I am a very cranky person when I wake up after being drunk, very cranky!

"I glare at Arthur and tell him to move out of my way he's interrupting my bath.

"What bath would this be?" he looks from me to Tristan and I can tell what he's thinking.

"Alright, stop, we aren't doing anything, and it will never happen. I just want some water so I can get this freaking filth off my body already. So move your can out of the way!" I don't know why, but I am really getting pissed at everyone this morning, I should probably lay off on the wine…yet last night, last night was so badly needed.

"Listen lady…"

"I told you not to call me lady, Roman." I glare at him, wishing he would move. Why did I pick a fight with a Roman commander? I see Arthur's chest swell in anger. No, not Arthur, noble, good-deed doer Arthur. No, I think I not.

"Do not talk down to me, were I someone else, you would be punished. I will not act against you, but I warn you to watch your step, others won't be so forgiving." He's such a pushover…he thinks he's something great….

"You think you are some great leader…you want everyone to look at you in awe…bet you can't wait to take a ride down _Via Sacrae_ on your big white horse huh? Some victory."

"What do you know about _Via Sacrae_?"

"I know you'll never be there." I walk past him and Tristan, intent on getting my water, somehow taking a bottle of mental Tylenol since the real thing is out of the question, and going back to bed. I hear footsteps approaching behind me. I stiffen, thinking its Arthur…I mentally slap myself, now regretting what I said but I realize the footfalls are too quiet…Tristan.

"Why must you argue with everyone?"

"Why must everyone anger me?" he says no more until we are carrying water back to his room.

"What was that bit about _Via Sacrae_?" he opens the door and steps in.

I dump the water in the tub, thinking about my answer. "_Via Sacrae_, it means holy road. Way back before Rome became a Christian empire…yes, there was a time when they weren't always crawling around on their knees, the temple of Jupiter, one of the Roman god's was at the end of it. After a great victory, the Roman general would march down the streets on a white horse, white horses are a sign of victory if I recall correctly, and they would go down the Via Sacrae to the temple. The army however would have to wait outside the city…to enter the city with one's army was a threat, a sigh that one wanted to become dictator…but that's' not important." I wait for him to lead the way out the door and back down the hall. As we walk however, he speaks up again.

"Why did you say Arthur would never be there? Do you not think him a good leader?"

"No, just the opposite," I reply, knowing full well that he would never go there, but become king of Brittan, "I think he is too good. He will become a great leader of his own."

"So you yelled at him and insulted him?"

"Well I can't have him knowing that I have thoughts other than hate in my head, besides, that is yet to come." He raises an eyebrow in question yet says nothing. We finish filling the tub in silence and he did me the courtesy of leaving while I bathed, but not until he got a big fire going.

I take my bath in silence, enjoying the sound of the water dripping off my body. I watch the ripples form around my bent legs and my fingers as I dip them in and out of the water. Its funny how one little thing, like a finger, can cause such an affect like ripples n the water. I reflect on the past week. Being stuck at school definitely made me desperate for Tristan's help, but do I still want his company? He was an alright guy to talk to, but he can really make me mad sometimes…him and everyone else. Being here, at Hadrian's Wall has been so different for me. In a way I have become more open, though only with Tristan. Plus, I am not only learning a lot about history, but also exercising what limited knowledge I already had on it. However, that I really didn't care about. What I did care about however was getting out of the tub, because the water is starting to get frigid and the fire isn't doing much good.

I step out carefully, unsure of what to do with the water in the tub, and leave it there. Maybe I'll give Lancelot a drink of water from it later, the little prick. My head is starting to feel much better I realize as I pull on my ratty old jeans, shirt and jacket. I brush some loose dirt off me and face the door. I want to ride a horse again, I just hope I can make it to the barn without killing anyone first.


	9. Use Your Brain, Not Your Head

**Here, t is, another chapter. I am sitting on my dorm floor, cables stretched to two different walls cause my boyfriend is using my desk, my hair is drying funky from an unusual shower I took, I'd really rather not talk about that one, and I am happy because my German test that I' definately not ready for was postpones till next wednesday! Also my friends that are still in high school are taking a trip to see me tomorrow and that makes me happy cause I don't have any classes tomorrow! Oh, and yeah, I am going larping over Easter weekend (I won't get to celelbrate the holiday too much :( but I will live) Yea, running around killing people dressed like an elf! Weeee!**

**So this is where I ask yall who have been following along what I should do. I know how I am ending the story, I worked that out a couple nights ago...I like it, hope you do too, but I am not sure where to go next. I know I don't want this to be a romance thing (icky!) however I am tossing up the idea that Krista and Tristan um...you know (Am I allowed to do this on the net?) (coughs embarrasingly) right, you know, but only for like one night...nothing would come out of it...or I could just keep things at a mutual friendship...kind of like they are, if you call that being friendly! So, review and let me know please!**

**Ok then, I don't own King Arthur, I think we all know that by now. But I wish I did, cause then I would get my friend back for falling asleep during the movie (I'll sick Cynric on her, hee hee hee heeee!) Well, actually we're already even, I blew a high pitched whistle in her ear and woke her up for the end!**

* * *

Time May Change

I enter the barn and find that Tristan is there, brushing the already shining coat of his mare and otherwise preparing to ride. I sit on a bale of hay and watch. We say nothing, we make no eye contact; just acknowledge the other's presence. Then in walks Lancelot, Bors and the one with the wild hair, Gawain I believe he is called. I narrow my eyes at Lancelot and he, catching this, walks over to give me a nice hello.

"Must you do that, it is very unnerving. I begin to think you hate me." He sits casually on a bale near mine and smiles. Stupid smile.

"Oh no, if I really hated you I wouldn't even look at you, I'd just kill you." I smile back like a Barbie Doll; plastered on and completely fake. He stands and kicks at the dirt and loose hay on the ground.

"I see, so does that mean you don't want to ride my horse?" he grins…you know, I wish he was actually talking about the four legged animal in the stall behind him and not…well, I don't need to elaborate. Nevertheless, it's not stopping me.

"Of course I do." I walk past him, fetch the appropriate tack and take his stallion from the stall to start brushing him.

"That's not what I…I mean…sure, ride my horse…" he shakes his head and Bors claps him on the back laughing.

"Vanora was the same way lad, get used to it." He walks away still laughing, and begins tapping on the door of another stall. "Come here big boy…eh, that's my boy." A large black head suddenly appears over the half door and Bors rubs his hands vigorously over its forehead and ears, receiving a trail of slime and horse hair when the horse suddenly started rubbing his head against him. Lancelot takes the opportunity to laugh back at him.

"Did Vanora do that too?" Bors glowers and walks out of the barn…I assume to wash his shirt up some.

Lancelot is still staring at me and I am sick of it. I swear the way he acts, if it's female…ugh! "You know what you're problem is, you always think with that," I point accusingly at his crotch, "instead of trying to use this," I now point accordingly to my temple. "Wrong head buddy." He mutters something about moody women and leaves. Tristan and Gawain are looking at me in amusement and I just scowl back.

"No." I don't know what they are about to say, but my answer is sure to be no. Gawain takes this as a cue and saunters over.

"I do hope we can be friends." He says, sugarcoated words seem to be his choice. I close my eyes and sigh. Why won't people just shut up already!

I open my eyes and look at him without turning my head. "Get out of here before I get angry, I give you fair warning." He stands and leaves as though nothing happened. Men, I just can't understand them. Place a woman in front of them, and they go crazy. Somehow I think Lancelot got the message though. As for Gawain, I don't think I really have to worry about him.

By this point Tristan is almost ready to mount up, but I can see that he is taking his time. I do believe he is waiting for me. Rather than make him wait, I leave the saddle and lead the stallion outside and mount up bareback. I used to do this a lot back in high school, but since going to college, I wasn't really allowed to do it too much. I relax as I feel the horses back moving directly beneath me and I smile; it's good to be back where I feel most comfortable.

Tristan says nothing as we ride and I don't bother to strike up conversation either. If we ride in silence, all the better. About ten minutes from the stables I feel myself calm down and I am soon my normal, still somewhat cranky and altogether rude self instead of Krista, head-biting snake woman that I've been all morning. I smile to myself as I enjoy the peaceful woods until I remember what Tristan had said about Woads. Well, it's as good a conversation starter as any, so I inquire about them.

"Are there any Woads around here?" I shift slightly uneasily on the horse's back and peer around me.

"Yes, but none close by…don't worry, we aren't threatening them…they shouldn't attack us…then again." he smiles slyly at me. God I hate men! To my surprise, he suddenly makes a dramatic topic change. "You really seem to hate Lancelot."

"Nay, I just don't like his pimping attitude."

"What?" oh yea, I forgot, fifth century, no slang or modern terms…

"Never mind. Hey," I say, hoping to change course with the conversation again, "I thought you were going to stay and keep the fire going, my bath this morning was freezing."

"I could tell that you were uncomfortable by the idea of my presence."

"Oh how noble of you, what made you think that?" I demand, pulling back gently on the reins as the black beast tries to surge forward suddenly.

"You've never been with a man, have you?" he keeps his head turned forward but I can feel his eyes peering at me beneath his braids.

Oh no, he's talking about that…and for a second I thought he wasn't like most men…thinking about sex all day long. "What makes you say that? I shift uncomfortably again, only this time not under the threat of Woads."

"Just a guess. You haven't then?" he asks somewhat unceremoniously.

"No…I haven't. I haven't exactly been the greatest charmer of mankind. What about you, huh, have you?"

"No, Lancelot pretty much takes care of most of the business around here. I must say I'm not a great charmer of woman."

"Really, that great scowl and everything? I'm surprised you're not the most popular guy around. You should try smiling."

"You should try it too." He counters back, gently urging his mare into a trot.

"I can't, it will kill me." I say, following him briskly. I pick up a canter and ride past him. I shoot a smile at him as I go around the turn and disappear into the woods. A minute later Tristan rounds the bend. He stops his horse and stiffens.

"There are Woads, not far off. We should head back."

The ride back was, in my opinion, lamentably uneventful. We reached the stables, untacked, put the horses away and headed inside. I asked around for Arthur but the best I got was an answer from the tall knight named Dagonet that he was once again spending time with his God.

"Well do you know when he will be available?"

"You never know how long he will be. Do you need something?"

"I was wondering if I had a place to stay at night yet."

"I can't know for sure but I don't think so, he might have gotten the impression that you and Tristan…"

"No, we aren't." I walk away before I hear anymore. Why do all people have to be so judgmental?

I join Tristan in his room and sink down on his bed.

"Still here?"

"Yes unfortunately. You know, for never knowing a man, I sure am spending a lot of time with you." I realize that they have a substantial reason for thinking that about us, but that doesn't mean I have to make it truth. I rest my head on my knees and sigh. I'm not hungover anymore, but somehow my head still hurts.


	10. Bad Habits Must Be Broken

**Well, here it is, the next chapter. Its a small step, but we're getting there. This chapter might not make some people happy, she gets drunk again...(funny, I hate drunkeness) but there is actually character progression so there is a reason behind it believe it or not. I have a test tonight that is a quarter of my grade, so I need to get going...um, now! So enjoy, review, and please don't hate me!**

**Don't own it! But if someone owns the book for my cinema appreciation class, that would be great since I don't own that either and I have a test, yikes!**

* * *

Time May Change

Despite the warnings in my head strongly advising me not to, Tristan and I got drunk again. I feel bad for running the poor guy broke. We went down to the tavern, casual, cool, not really planning on getting drunk, but somehow, we did.

"One more time, come on." I ignore Galahad as I pluck the throwing knives from the target fixed on a post in the tavern. At his request I close my eyes and throw the knives, hitting the target almost squarely in the middle each time. This is the fifth time tonight…any more times and I might have to 'accidentally' miss and hit Galahad.

"No more, my wrist hurts," I lie. In truth, my left wrist did hurt, since it was still healing from the slight fracture I had, but my right wrist was fine.

"Tristan?" the ever annoying Galahad asks hopefully. The suck-up wants to learn more. Galahad is young, very young. In a few years he won't be half bad if he starts making a stand for himself instead of leaning on his fellow knights so much. I sigh and go to sit down to get another round with Tristan when I sense a blade fly behind my back, followed by the familiar thud of the blade sinking in. Tristan glances at me. Ah, a challenge, I see. He throws another, without looking. Our eyes meet as he releases the tip of the blade and I blink in acknowledgement. Yes, I can see you are quite good too.

I walk back over and grab the last blade from him. Stupid men, always have to ask so tough I circle around him so his back is to the target and he now faces me. "You bug me, I don't think I like you anymore." Without breaking our eye-contact I throw the blade over his shoulder, nearly brushing against his him and hit the target. I smirk, giving him a top that look and steal Gawain's drink from him. I take a long swig and smile; beer! He was drinking beer…sorry ale. I lean against him; I wish I could control myself a bit more when I am drunk.

"Gawain, I know you want to buy me a drink, you're such a nice guy." Anything for more beer. I feel Tristan glaring at me; I think he is mad at me. Hmmm, jealousy? Perhaps. Being the person I am, I normally wouldn't care, then again, why would a guy be jealous over me? I think about playing with the situation and seeing where it ends up…but I am drunk so what would drunk me do? I smile evilly. I am going to take advantage of this and see where it ends up.

I accept the mug from Gawain's outstretched hand. He smiles at me, surprised to see a pleasant side to me and thinks he is lucky. Poor fool. I smile devilishly, I don't often do it, but I love playing mind games like this, especially with men. I really should stop drinking; alcohol is beginning to ruin my reputation.

I am debating on just how far I want to go when Gawain goes too far and tries crushing his lips down on mine. Instinct overpowers the mind as I smash the mug down on his head and shove him away. A few roman soldiers start to come over but I don't care.

"Don't ever do that!" I menacingly mutter in his face and go to walk away. A roman suddenly grabs my shoulder and instinct again takes over, but this time it tells me to control my anger otherwise I will only land myself in more trouble.

The man grips my shoulder hard and turn around stiffly thinking of all the things I could do to kill him. I vaguely hear him say something about 'getting what I deserve now' and being a 'hellfire of an arrogant wench'. The details don't matter much; it's pissing me off to no end. Before I can cock my arm back and smash his face in, an arm suddenly shoots between the two of us and someone tells him to leave it alone and that he would see me taken care of. I am in stupor of sorts from rage and being completely smashed from all the alcohol. An arm snakes around my shoulder and leads me away from the tavern. I see a large jug of wine sitting on the counter as we make our way out and I grab it before anyone can protest, I don't think they saw actually, and I need to seriously drink this night and all its bad memories away.

My escort shakes his head in amusement and pushes me against a wall.

"Is this all a game to you? Do you even care if you die?"

"No, not especially. Do you?"

"Yes, I think, to some extent, I do care, I have to deal with you."

"No, you don't you're just drunk and hormonal." I know he doesn't understand that completely but that isn't the point. "Nobody cares about me."

"And what if I did care whether you die or not?"

I stare shocked and hurt into his eyes for a moment before taking a way too long swig of wine and walk away as though Tristan never existed.

Unfortunately the only place I could really go was to his room, especially since the weather, which had warmed up significantly during the day, broke and it started pouring rain, catching me somewhat off-guard.

I walk in his room and plop down on his bed, not caring that I am getting his blankets wet. I start sipping more wine, trying to drown the night's events in insensibility but to no avail. Just when I thought I was getting close to the point of passing out Tristan walked in.

"What are you doing here?" I slur, temporarily forgetting that its his room.  
"Get out of my room." I stumble off the bed and try to shove him out but fall forward on his chest instead, not exactly grateful that he caught me.

He guides me to the bed and takes the pitcher, that is somehow still in my hands, and sets it on the table. I see him steal a sip when he thinks I'm not looking, but who's keeping count, I already drank more than half of it.

He sits on the bed next to me and brushes the hair out of the way that had been covering my face. I swat his hand away. "You should try doing that t yourself, you need a haircut."

"Its how I like it." Always that same monotonous voice. I roll my eyes and flop stomach down on his bed, hoping that sleep overtakes me and soon. I open my eyes a slit as I hear Tristan stand I wonder what he is doing.

I groan as I see him reach in his pocket and pull out a bloody apple. He then proceeds to slice and eat it, all the while watching me lie in the bed. I hope desperately that he thinks I'm asleep.

"You know, you still owe me an apple." Of course I knew that I couldn't fool Tristan, but I groan again in frustration anyways and roll over on my back.

"And I told you you're not getting it." I sit up and steal the apple from him and cut myself a slice before handing it back. "You eat them too much, you're going to start turning green or something." I mumble. I'm not making much sense, but I don't care, I just want to go to bed and wake up in my car, freezing my butt off once again, waiting to go back to school and lie about how great my Thanksgiving break was to anyone who cares enough to ask.

"I want that back." Ridiculous, he can't have it back, I swallowed it.

"No, I ate it." I lie back down and face the wall.

"You are very stubborn. Why do you hate so much?"

"I don't hate, I dislike very much but tolerate nevertheless. Were I to really hate everything, I'd probably kill myself by now."

"I see." He sits on the bed and leans his back over my legs and against the wall. "I must say I agree, much in this world needs tolerating."

"Like living in a foreign country and fighting for someone else for half your life?" I sit up intrigued by the conversation.

"Yea, like that." He takes another bite of his crisp apple and offers the apple and knife to me. I think I may be able to appreciate this guy.

"I see." I reply, mirroring his reply a few moments ago. I feel myself start to think things I normally wouldn't be thinking and I mentally slap myself. No, keep it together; don't think about doing that, especially not drunk. I shake my brain loose of any such thoughts and put my stone faced uncaring attitude back on. "Well that's your problem, not mine. Goodnight." I lie back down and refuse to answer back to anything he says. Tristan however has no intentions of saying anymore and leaves the room. I may have been facing the wall once again, but I could hear the sound of a clay jug being lifted from the table followed by the slam of a door. I tell myself that I don't care and with difficulty fall asleep, dreading the headache I know I'm going to have in the morning. Unbeknownst to me, Tristan sits in the hall, head against the wall, finishes off the wine and with thoughts of me, mostly curses, falls asleep in the hall.


	11. I Want to Feel

**Alright, you asked for it, so don't complain now that you've got it. Please take note that I have never wrote anything like what is contained in this chapter ever before. There are a few sex implicatons, however, there have ben some littered throughout the story, so I guess this isn't too different...well, just read and you'll see. Also, this is the last chapter for a few days, I will be away at a larp all weekend and will be very busy. Really, I'm just gald to be alive, I nearly drowned myself via choking on my drink. I was getting a microwave down from a high shelf in a friend's garage to use for the larp and I had a bottle of ginger beer (really strong, spicy, burns on the way down your throat version of ginger ale) so to free up my handsI put the end of the neck of the bottle in my mouth. I got the microwave down no problem but as I was figuring out how to get out of the littlw jammed area that I was standing in, 1 foot on each side of a couple of boxes kind of thing, I accidentally raised my head a little to far and all the sharp burning soda went flooding in my mouth, up my nose, maing my eyes water instantly and I couldn't even move to do anything. I had enough sense to quick lower my head but as I was trying to breath through the stuff caught in my mouth and nasal passage, and i couldnt cough cause the bottle was still in my mouth, I ended up doing it again and I ended up having to yell (which was more like muffled screams) and my boyfriend came running and grabbed the microwave quick while I went and hacked until I could breathe again. Ai, it was a nightmare driving home. And I had to listen to that stupid microwave rattle in the backseat the whole way. So, the usual, I don't own it. Wish me luck role playing and killing people at the larp and a very happy Easter to everyone of my readers. I really do hope that some of you enjoy this chapter, just keep in mind; its what you wanted.**

* * *

Time May Change

I awoke the next morning with a load groan that might have been a yawn. My head is a little sore and I hate myself for getting drunk once again. the events from the night before start playing on my head and I roll over thinking about how I would kill Tristan if he ever tried anything on me. I open my eyes…and scream.

"Tristan, what are you…what the hell…get out of this bed now!"

At the same time Tristan's voice joined the chorus with "How did I, did you…What the hell….get out of my room!" We instantly withdraw from our close lying position, Tristan almost falls out of the bed, I smack my head against the wall and then, more lovely singing.

"When did you get in bed with me? Sorry, WHY are you still in the same bed? Did you do anything?" I shove him fully out of the bed and I am thankful to see that both he and I are still fully clothed, although that still could mean nothing.

He stands and stares at me stupidly before shaking his head in frustration. "Bors…I'm gonna kill that man."

"What, don't blame him for your disgusting hormone problems…god you're worse than Lancelot." I wrap the sheet around me defensively despite the fact that I am already covered up.

"No…" he says reflectively. "No, it was Bors." He says this so calmly, yet lethally, I swear I'm going to kill him before the day is threw.

"Last night, he woke me up, I remember now; I fell asleep in the hall outside the room. I was still drunk and half passed out. He put me in bed with you, its not my fault."

"You think I'm going to believe that, you scum bag?" I stand up ad shout in his face while searching around for any miscellaneous items that might be mine so I can leave the room.

"Do you possibly think I would want to sleep with you?" He actually looks me boldly in the eyes as he speaks, and I believe him. What's more, it hurts.

"Why not? Not that I want you to sleep with me or anything. I can't stand you."

"Well I don't really care much for you either, I'm just stating that I wouldn't waste the time with you, you've never even done it before." He remarks somewhat coolly.

I fell very close to slapping him right now. I am very angry; I can feel the rage swelling inside like a huge wave. "You've never been with anyone either, remember?" I now find myself in a bit of a stare down with him. I glare angrily at him, but inwardly, I can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Somewhere behind the mess of braids, I'm sure he's laughing too.

I narrow my eyes, trying to hold onto my glare. My left begins twitching.

"Your eye is twitching."

"I realize that, thank you."

"It's cute."

Is that a smile I see? I think it is, very faint, but still there. I need to know where all of this is leading, so I decide to play more with the situation. "Do you think Gawain would like it?" Ah, I see, that does irk him.

"I thought you didn't like Gawain." I stiffen slightly as he says this and he unfortunately notices.

"I thought so. Let that notion go, you won't have me going and getting jealous over him, I don't want to be with him."

"Who then do you want to be with?" I am not playing into his hands, I will be strong, and I will retreat…retreat…retreat already! Crap, I'm not going anywhere.

"I don't know…" at least he didn't say he wanted to be with me. "But you're the only one who understands me."

Somehow his words melt the ice around my heart and I finally see some light. "You're the only one who didn't see right past me, you understand me too." I shrug and act like its nothing. Regardless if how he pr I feel, I am not getting involved in anything, especially not with one of Arthur's friggin Knights of the Round Table. I give him another cold look. "Did you think you were going to get the girl? I'm not for sale, and I don't buy into this crap either." I don't care if he understood that or not, I am getting out of here.

"Do you think you can just shove feelings aside so easily?"

"Yes, I do. That's all I've done my whole life," my voice gets choked up and kind of angry and raised. "And from what I can tell, its all you've done to. We aren't human, we don't feel. We are only here to live and to die, noting more." I shout the last few words and I see him lock his shoulders defensively at my little speech, letting all emotions just drain to his feet like they always do. I shake my head; nothing will ever change.

My eyes are a bit teary in truth as I reflect on my hollow and wasted shell-like life. I know nothing, I feel nothing, and I want to know what live is. and I think he does too. I close my eyes and take a deep breath; I don't want to live like this anymore, at least, not without knowing. And I want him to do something other than stare at me all morning long.

"Can't you just for once do something? Show some sort of emotion, a feeling, just do something! I'm so sick of this!" I actually yell at him, and I blame it on my hangover that for some reason, isn't fully taking effect (yet). I see his eyes flicker. Deep down I know something is going on in his head, but I don't wonder long.

I suddenly find myself on the bed, on my back, Tristan above me. his shirt has been discarded and mine is following suit. The rest of our clothes soon become lost on the floor. I smile up at him, letting him know with the truth in my eyes that I want this for both of us. Tristan lowers himself down, and we are soon lost together in the morning hours experiencing bliss together. Outside the door I can vaguely hear footsteps walking down the hall slowly. I don't know it, but Bors is shaking his head smiling. And to himself he says, "I knew it, I knew I could get the boy in bed with her."


	12. A Life Philosophy

**Ok, its been a while, I know. But seriously, I've beenso busy. I had two huge exams today, a group presentation in which I had to teach thelesson for the dayand read a paper on The American Dream that I wrote at a conference.I basically fudged my way through the whole day unprepared for everything yet still turning out ok. Anyways, the larp went great, it tired me out though. I survived the weekend on a can of vanilla funfetti cake icing andcranberry-wildberry juice (yummy)So, now you know why its been a while. This chapter might not be the greatest, but I didnt want to keep you guys waiting too long. It is geting late now, and I have been running non stop since 8:30 this morning (I hate wed. with a passion) so I'm going to go to bed now. Wish me luck with my Three papers due, they're a killer! I hope you enjoy the chapter, I am trying to slowly wind the story down, probably only one or two more chapters left now. Sorry if this one sucks! Please dont hate me! **

**I don't own King Arthur. I did, but I ate it over the weekend when I was playing a barbarian named Mudslide. (You guys should try larping, its awesome) By the way, if you're curious as to what exactly went on at the alrp, its a really funny story...really, really funny!**

* * *

Time May Change

I can hear gentle snoring next to me and I realize with a start we had both fallen back asleep. I am curious as to the time but more so as to what people are going to think when we leave the room in the middle of the day like this. Only God knows what they're going to be thinking. I look at Tristan with a hint of a smile. No, don't do this, get a hold on yourself, don't lose it now. I fidget under the blanket' I have to get out of this room.

I trip myself out of bed rather unceremoniously, partially falling on Tristan in the process. He wakes with a sort and jumps up, the blankets falling away from his body revealing all. I swallow. I can't believe that…that we…and that thing……oh but it was nice. Tristan looks at me sheepishly. He was staring, but its ok, I was too. He looks tired. I wouldn't doubt it, we wore each other out really good. I sit back down on the bed, pulling the blanket across my lap. I don't want him staring at me anymore, not like this.

He is a bit uncomfortable, I can tell, as he grabs his things and turns around to get dressed. I take advantage of the moment and throw my old clothes on. Five minutes later we find ourselves staring at the door, wondering what we will find beyond.

Neither of us are willing to act like a scared dog, I know I won't. I look up defiantly and make my way to the door. Tristan, likewise, reached for the handle, bumping my hand in the process. I jump back and glare. I am not walking out of here at the same time as him, not after what we did. People will think things, the wrong things. What wrong things, we did do what they are thinking. I let out an aggravated sigh; I may as well get out of this room and down to the stables where I can get some peace. I exchange looks from Tristan, I can tell he is thinking the same. I only hope Lancelot lends me his horse again.

I walk in the stables shadowing Tristan as he enters before me. There is no one to be found and that suits me just fine. Tristan gets his mare out and begins preparing her for a ride. As much as I would love to get on a horse and away from everyone, I feel I probably shouldn't just take someone's horse, especially after all the trouble I caused the night before. Gods, was that last night. The head ache I didn't have before is suddenly tormenting me as memories of the tavern begin to haunt me. if I'm not careful, I'm going to land myself in some deep crap. Speaking of which…

I look around; the stalls need to be cleaned still. I always enjoyed being around horses, even if it was manure duty. I may as well redeem myself, plus why should the horses suffer and stand in their morning filth?

I nod to Tristan as he gently lays the saddle on his mare's smooth back and tightens the cinch around to secure it. He raises an eyebrow as I go on a short conquest to find a pitchfork. I near the hay to see if someone carelessly left it sticking up for someone to stumble over, but fortunately for whoever that clumsy person might be, it wasn't there. I then go to the back of the stable, hoping to find it there, but to no avail. I turn to ask Tristan where the blasted pitchfork is but there he stands behind me, smirking.

"Looking for this?" He holds up a pitchfork. As I grab for it, I notice he has a shovel in his other hand. I throw it off as nothing and walk to nearest stall; Lancelot's horse.

I begin scooping the contents of the stall up and shaking the loose clean straw out when I realize that I don't have a wheelbarrow or bucket to place it in, nor do I know where to dump it at either. Again I turn to ask Tristan, and again I am surprised.

He is leaning against the opposite stall, a large bucket at his feet. He lowers head against his chest and stares at me.

"For someone so experienced around horses you sure have a lot of trouble cleaning a stall."

"Oh as if I would know where everything if kept." He shrugs and drags the bucket over before joining me inside the stall.

"What are you doing, aren't you going to ride?" I ask casually, wishing to be alone to think.

"I could, but if I help you it will get done quicker, and this is more important, is it not?" I choose not answer him and continue to clean out the stall, occasionally petting the coal black stallion as I did. The silence is welcoming to me, but I feel uneasy working next to Tristan. Even when his eyes are elsewhere, I can feel his gaze, ever boring into me, staring right through me and piercing my heart. The part that worries me; I don't have a heart, just a block of ice that freezes my soul.

I set myself into a pattern as I work; rake, scoop, shake, dump, rake, scoop, shake, dump. The stalls are nearly done when u stop for a moment to catch my breath.

"I take it back, you know what you're doing." Tristan leans his shovel against the outside of the stall and joins me on a bale of hay. I look down at the close proximity of our bodies and scoot away.

"Do you not like me now? Or did you never? Was last night all just a game to you?" he grinds his foot on the ground in slow small semi circles as he tries to act like he doesn't care.

I stand and lean against a stall down the aisle a ways. "No Tristan, last night was not a game. Life is a game, one we all must play, and we all must lose. There is no winner in life, only failure and death."

"You talk much of life being worthless. Must we all hate it so?" He picks at a piece of hay and twines it between his fingers, wrapping it around his middle finger, then his ring finger. "Its not just a game, a game is played many times, this we must live, we only get one chance to get it right." The hay breaks and falls to the ground and he kicks it out of the way.

"Aye, only one chance, and we throw it all away." I sit on the ground and stare ahead. Life; you're supposed to embrace it, enjoy what you have and do what you can with it. But I'd rather ignore it and get it over with. This is what I was handed and I won't 'try to make the best of it'. Shit can't be made good. I learned that long ago, I learned that when my mother died, and again when my father left me alone with that freak woman on my birthday when he hung himself in our bathroom. I walk in to take a shower and I find him. Funny thing is, I can remember being more upset over not being able to bathe for another six hours than finding him dead. He never cared about, why should I have cared about him? Yes, we all throw life away, and some of us, spit on it.

It seemed that with time, it was just easier to ignore everything in life than to deal with it. Somehow I ended up like this. This is the path I chose, it took a few turns to get here, yet here I am. No going back, only forward, and I'm stuck in the fifth century to figure it out. If I ever get back to my real time, I'm going to hurl.

I grab my pitchfork and make my way to the next stall. No use crying over spilled milk, right? I separate the clean from the dirty hay and start mucking it out, this time alone. But I can feel his eyes on me, always watching me. "What do you want?"

"I'm waiting for you to finish so I can put her away." He gestures to the horse still standing cross-tied in the aisle. I pick up one last fork full, dump it in the bucket and leave the stall wordlessly. As he puts his mare in, I take the bucket to be dumped for the fifth time. I ignore all stares as I drag it behind me. If people are going to start thinking of me as one worthy only for stall duty, fine. At least someone is doing it.

I walk back in the stables to the last stall but Tristan corners me. "Why? Why do you not care?"

"Let me ask you this, do you? Do you care about life? Or is death just another step in the adventure?"

"Yes, it is another step, one we all take. When or how doesn't matter too much, I know it won't be at home though. So what does it matter?" He pauses before turning the tables on me. "What about you, will you go home?"

I shake my head and smile in a sad yet evil sort of way. "Even if I could return, it was never home to me, only where all my nightmares begin." I duck under his arm and proceed to clean out the last stall. Another ten minutes and I am once again dumping the bucket, this time its nearly empty and I drag it behind me much quicker. As I near the manure pit however I encounter Lancelot, and I'm not in the mood.

"Krista, where were you all night…and morning? I know you share a room with Tristan, but I thought you weren't like that?"

Is that alcohol I smell on his breath? Doesn't Arthur take command of his men ever? They're always running around pestering me, don't they have better things to do than get drunk and think about sex? "None of your business, now if you'll excuse me, I have to dump this."

"Allow me." I can't believe he is still trying to charm me. I thought I had gotten him to give t up but I guess what happened with me and Tristan was an insult to his record. Well, rather than tarnish his reputation with the women, I better hold up my end.

"Sure you can help me, here just take this side of the bucket, and I'll hold the other." He picks up one end and as I have him off guard I grab the bottom and tilt up and 'accidentally' spill the contents on him. "Oh dear, isn't that just disgusting, well, I do thank you for helping me dump this. Bye."

I exit the scene before I bust out laughing. I know I shouldn't have, but how could I have resisted. I know I'll be in trouble later, but I'll deal with that then. I quick duck around a corner as I see Arthur coming and a hand is clasped around my mouth. I take a moment to glare ahead, annoyed. Rough, calloused hands, why is he still here? I stomp on his toes then bring my elbow up sharp and fast, catching him in the ribs, leaving him slightly bent over holding his side.

"After this morning I thought you'd be kinder to me."

"We all get used to disappointment eventually." I walk away, heading to the edge of the woods were I plan to sit and reflect life.

As I sit I notice, much to my annoyance, that Tristan is still behind me, now seating himself next to me.

"Do you remember being young, smiling because you could, not for any real reason, just cause life was good?"

I place my head on my knees and close my eyes, thinking back to when I was little. "No, I don't. I remember tears. Tears and death and then darkness. When I was very little, about five, maybe when I just turned six, there may have been smiles, but then my mother died…and it all went downhill from there. My father always had a problem with drinking, but after that, well, problem doesn't quite fill the job description. It was a life style; being drunk. And I was always in the way. No, I don't remember happiness."

"And this morning, what did you feel? Did you feel happiness, did you feel pain?" He knows it wasn't love.

"No, I just felt, I could feel. For once I wasn't numb to what we call life, I was human. I knew what things were, what life was. Happiness wasn't experienced per say, but it was understood. Don't get me wrong, it certainly felt good, but it wasn't like that. It was more like becoming whole, for once I wasn't hollow."

"A sort of feeling of completeness, I know what you mean." He stares ahead. "Does this mean we're…I mean, do we have to…?"

"No, we don't have to do anything." I look at him and smile. it would be ok, everything would be ok. Tomorrow the sun would still rise, tonight it would set, and I'd be one more day closer to getting my life over and done with. I stand and wait for Tristan as I make my way towards the tavern for an early supper. People are going to talk, but I'll let them. I know what happened, Tristan knows what happened, that's all who needs to know. My mouth twitches as I think about Tristan and our 'activities' of the morning. Tristan was alright, he was an ok guy. He knew what I meant what I said about life. To some extent, he was living it just like me, one day at time, wondering when it would all end. Perhaps it wouldn't be today or tomorrow, but time didn't matter to me. It was the 'why' that I cared about. Why do we all die, and why did I have to live the way I've lived my life? and why was it only now that I've ever really cared?

**Ok, this is the end of my, quick-write-something-before-they-forget-who-you-are chapter. I hope someone out there liked it. Worry not though, this story is going somewhere...I just have to figure out where (Just kidding, I just need to straighten out a few bumps yet, thats all) Bye for now, sleepy time, and horse back riding (I desperately hope) tomorrow. For anyone educated in the field of horses, I am very happy, I taught my paint horse to side pass over the weekend and schooled my new horse over two foot jumps, which is new for him! Progression at last, yea, go me! (does happy dance) Sorry, got a little distracted there, goodnight everyone, enjoy your nights rest, I know I will! By the way, don't forget to review, they make me happy and help me to write better. So please review.**


	13. Anything But Love

**Ok, wow! Its been a really long time since I've updated, I'm really sorry about that. I had to deal with a lot of stuff. School was ending for the year, I had crazy fials and loads of work to do...lots of papers to write...but it paid off, because I made the dean's list...yea, go me! So, I had a horse show right after school let out and the two days later I had to take the love of my life back up to the Univeristy to leave for London for a month! I cried like the whole way home! I miss him tons and that made it really hard for me to do much of anything for a while. Plus, I got a full time job working at Hershey Chocolate Factory near where I live in Pa, but its at night so I sleep for most of the day and then by the time I wake up, I want to go outside riding and then back off to work...so you see why I've been busy. Plus I've had a major writers block. I wa on my way to run downtown to get some dinner since my mom didn't save me any and I came bursting out the door yelling "I got it, I got it back!" So I came up here right away and started typing. I have to get ready for work soon, so it might be a bit short, but I'll try writing more tomorrow. Anyways, thanks for putting up with me, you guys are great! And yea, I don't own, because if I did, I definatley get imprisoned for neglecting it this long!**

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Time May Change

That night at the tavern…well, it wasn't a good night to get drunk. I sit in the back with Tristan at what is fast becoming our usual table. I can feel eyes on me from all over. I feel like everyone is staring at me, saying I know what you did. I look up uneasily and I see Bors smiling devilishly at us. Beside him I see Lancelot talking to a barmaid. She is twirling her fingers in her hair seductively and I can tell that she knows Lancelot's game. In fact, she may be his new favorite playing partner.

As if sensing my eyes on him, Lancelot looks up and scowls. I glare back and without taking his eyes off of me he pulls the girl onto his lap. If he thinks I care he is sadly mistaken. I roll my eyes and look away. Tristan nods and I stand to leave. Before we can make it out of the tavern though, Galahad stops, throwing knife in hand. God I want to kill this guy.

"Once more, come on, since you're feeling so good today?" If I could just take that knife and throw it in him….no, I can't do that, they'd have my neck. Instead I force a smile and take the knife. I'm in a bit of a foul mood so I wouldn't have bee surprised if I had missed, but there it was, the sound of the blade thumping into the wood. I open my eyes and see it protruding from the hard grains of the wood. "You know, that's not too good for your blade, it will go dull quickly by throwing it at such a hard thick surface."

"I know, it's just that I like to practice hitting solid targets, you know, for when I am in battle." Oh, the kid thinks he's tough.

"If you needed something that hard and thick you could have just thrown it at Lancelot then." I hear a few laughs around me and I roll my eyes again, this time taking notice of how nicely crafted the ceiling of the tavern is. I walk over to his blade and yank it from the wood. He watches as I pocket it…mine now.

"You can be quite funny; I don't understand why you don't engage in conversation more often."

I look at him somewhat blankly as I brush by him and out the door. "Because conversation wastes time." And I shut the door behind me. A second later Tristan joins me.

"You took his knife?"

"Well its not like he was using it. Besides, mine's broken, think you I should be unarmed?"

"From what I gather, you're a much threat without it." Did he just smile? God I think I did too.

"Stop it." I turn and glare at him angrily.

He looks at me hi, his eyes, partially hidden by his hair are mixed with confusion. "Stop what?"

"Stop making me smile."

"I didn't make you do anything…admit it."

I roll my eyes at him, not caring if he saw or not, as I made my way up the steps to the top of the stone wall. I plop myself down and gaze at the stars, glad that at least the stars in the sky are the same. I hear footsteps coming up the steps but they stop at the top.

"You know, you don't have to follow me everywhere, I'm staying in your room." I shout, pretending to be angry as I continue to stare at the sky.

"Good, I thought I might have to come to yours." I sigh in frustration and put my head down. _Lancelot._ I turn and face the man who just doesn't seem to get a clue.

"Why don't you give up?"

"Why don't you give in?"

"Honestly Lancelot, if you want to play that game we can be here all night. The answer still is, and will always be; no." Deciding that was the end of the conversation, I turn back to the stars and smile as I begin to recognize one of the constellations. I was never really into astrology, or astronomy or anything though, so I couldn't say what it was. I rack my brain for a name and try to ignore Lancelot's footsteps echoing in my head as he strolls closer.

"I'm very experienced."

"I'm not interested….why do you not leave me alone already?"

"Because you're a challenge. Do I want to be remembered as being beaten by a girl?"

"I'm not challenging you or beating you at anything. I just don't want to be another notch in your belt. That's nothing to be proud of…or worth being remembered for. Why sleep with so many women? Find one and love her like you do a thousand women. That's at least honorable." Not wanting anymore to do with the conversation, I begin to leave.

"You sound like you speak from experience, what do you know of love?"

"That it has never known me." I cast my eyes down as I remember sad times and walk down the steps.

"I make no stops as I make my way back to Tristan's room. I knock and wait briefly before entering upon hearing no answer. Inside I find the room empty. I look around at the sparse items in the room and decide that life at the wall must be lonely for Tristan. He seems like the kind of guy who needs to constantly be out doors, always on the move. I notice that he has an extra sword by his bed, which surprises me, swords can't be too cheap. It was lying on the table at the head of the bed. There was an old, plain floor rug covering part of the floor space and on the other side of the room near the ash and soot filled fireplace, a small table and a lone chair. I guess he doesn't get much company. There was a bin next to the fireplace with some dried wood in it and on the mantle of the fireplace there were a few candle stubs and a book. In the far corner I saw the wash tub that I had used before.

I figured it was definitely time for another bath and I could really use a soak in some hot water, so I drug it away from the wall and went to fetch the first of many buckets of water.

Somewhere along the way, between the second and third trip, I ran into Dagonet. I smiled weakly at him for I found no error in him and continued along. As I made my way back down for more water, I was joined by two more buckets and a warm smile. Our eyes met and though we exchanged no words, he knew what I said; 'thank you.'

Together the tub filled up in no time and before I knew it he was shutting the door and I was stripping down to finally enjoy my bath. The water was a bit hotter than I thought it would be. I thought it would have cooled down more by then, but guess not. Knowing that the water I had was the water I was stuck with for the whole bath, I ignored the overwhelming sensation of the heat and slouched down deep into the steaming water.

My lower back was aching from a riding injury I had sustained years ago and the water felt great to relieve the muscle stress I was experiencing. I sink down deeper in the tub, my knees practically in my mouth and head almost level with the water and let out a sigh. Not the most comfortable position, but it felt good nevertheless. Just as I begin to fully relax though, the door swings open.

Not expecting anyone to come in I am startled and jump up in surprise. However the position I entangled myself in doesn't leave me at liberty to move quite so gracefully. I succeed in almost tipping over the tub as I try to spring up and grab my shirt to cover myself. I quick right the tub knowing that if I spilled the water it would be a huge mess and end up flying out of the tub and landing soaking wet in a wave of water on the floor. As I lay there stark naked I look up and see mess of hair and dark eyes glaring down at me.

"Hi Tristan."

"Women are supposed to clean up messes….not make them." He sits down at the table, pretending I'm not lying on his bedroom floor naked, and begins eating an apple. Luckily for me I didn't dump the water; I just took a good part of it with me when I flopped out so it wasn't a big mess. However I was more concerned about getting dressed and my clothes were soaked. Clearly it was someone's goal to make a moron out of me. I sit up, clear my throat and address Tristan as though I were asking him to pass the salt. "Tristan, might I borrow a shirt for the night?" he stands and flings a shirt at me from a shelf I had failed to notice on the wall by his bed. I raise my eyebrows as I see a basket of apples on the other end of the shelf.

I throw the shirt on and ring my clothes out in the tub before asking for his help to empty the tub out. An hour went by before I was able to sit down and relax again. By this point I was ready to turn in. As I climb into the bed shyly I make a silent prayer to anyone listening that Tristan doesn't want to pick up where he left off. I let out a sigh of relief as he climbs in facing away from me.

I want to say something before nodding off but I don't know what. Not just 'good night' either. However, that was the best I could come up with. Before I fall asleep though, I do say one other thing. "Hey Tristan? Go riding tomorrow?" I got a grunt as an answer, which I took for a yes, and soon fell asleep.


	14. At Times Life Can Hurt

**Alright, I actually would have had this up sooner, except I got my wisdom teeth out Friday afternoon and wasn't exactly up to writing too much. But I sat myself down today before I went outside and I finished up this chapter a few minutes ago. My jaw still hurts like crazy and I think I gave the doctor one heck of a good surgery. When he came in the room I told him I didn't really like surgery. He said neither did he. I laughed and said he wasn't the one on the chair...plus he was getting paid! Also in the middle of the surgery..I was semi conscious, and somehow, even though they were working in my mouth, I started talking about my boy friend (who is finally coming home this Tursday!) and said something about my mom vacuming again. Basically, I was out of it for a good bit of time. So, I hope its understandable what took so long. I have to go into work in a few hours...nightshift sucks...and I know its going to be awful with my jaw, but I'll be thinking about my story while I'm there! I don't own King Arthur, and if I did...I would have Dagonet take his big axe and chop my jaw off! Ouch, that might make it hurt worse! Ok, enjoy the chapter...I wrote most of it while on the medicine they gave me...and its _strong_ stuff...so lets hope it makes sense.**

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Time May Change

The next morning I wanted to go riding right away but he Knights were supposed to do some sort of drill practice so I had to wait. I would have just gone without Tristan, the loss of his company for one horse ride wouldn't be that great, but Lancelot needed his horse. So I went to the tavern instead and sat at 'my' table in the back.

"Here, don't worry about it, enjoy." Vanora places a bowl of stew in front of me accompanied by a big apple and at tall glass of water. I shake my head and pick up the wooden spoon on the edge of the bowl. I can see chunks of potatoes and onion slices floating around and an occasional piece of meat, which I was assuming was beef. The meat was very tender and I enjoyed it regardless that I was eating soup for breakfast. Only compliant I had, it needed a little garlic, but I have an uncanny love for garlic and think everything needs garlic.

I was on my third or fourth bite, taking my time and blowing on it so as to not burn my mouth, when a few Roman soldiers entered and sat down at a table nearby. I was going to call Vanora and ask her for some garlic, but I didn't want to bother her. So I figured I'd ask one of the brutes next to me who were more than likely just looking to get drunk a little early…no decency.

"Hey, hey…you know where I can get some garlic around here? Hey?" None look up as I call to them and I feel my temper slipping. I know they heard me. I the one who seemed to be the ring leader of the bunch to be the one who gave trouble a couple of times. Of course, I gave him some trouble too. I sigh and rest my head in my hand as stir my stew and watch the broth drip off the spoon, causing ripples around little bits of floating celery. I eat all the potato bits then take my time chewing through the beef chunks as I realize that a hunk of bread would be great to sop the broth up with. I started making a mental list; garlic, bread…maybe some salt…. Instead of doing something about it I drain the water, take the bowl to Vanora for cleaning and pocket the apple for later.

Fortunately the knights are done doing their thing and so long as the horses aren't too winded, I'm going riding. I intersect Lancelot in the stable entranceway as he was leading his horse in.

"Horse?"

"Still good, nothing too hard though, not much running. Try a long relaxed ride, he never gets that." Well yea, who gets to relax? I take the reins from and ready myself to mount when I see Tristan come around the corner with his mare.

"Leaving without me?"

"Tried to." I joke as I step up in the saddle and settle myself down softly. The horse jerks his head up in excitement and I wonder in what way did Lancelot ride this horse, he's still fresh as ever. Beside me Tristan's mare is prancing lightly. I look at Tristan puzzled and ask what kind of drills they were doing.

"Mostly easy stuff, making sure the horses still knew to stand still in battle when needed to and stuff. We didn't really ride them, just got them more excited." Terrific. Well, it's a good thing I know how to ride, otherwise the horse would have thrown me by now. I however, am as excited as the stallion beneath me, so I give a little nudge with my heel and urge him unto an extended walk and let him stretch out his muscles a bit.

As we reach the woods I pick up a trot and while keeping my hands light, I have to stiffen my wrists a bit to keep him from surging forward at the command. I love days like this, I can just feel something in the air.

"If the horses are still fresh why did Lancelot tell me to take it easy with his horse?"

"His horse is his friend, he wants you take care of him…..I know you do, don't give me that look. I think he wanted to catch you off guard, that's all."

"And you, are you ever caught off guard?"

"Never…" Suddenly Tristan stiffened and brought his horse to a halt.

"What is…?"

"Woads." Before he could react an arrow came shooting out of the trees towards Tristan's horse. The mare reared up in surprise and narrowly missed getting shot through the neck.

Instinct took over as I grabbed Galahad's blade from inside my sleeve and threw it at the blue-tinted figure I could just make out in the tree branches. Fortunately it was alone, and he wouldn't be getting back to report to the other demon freaks. I could hear the man falling dead from the branches and hitting the ground but then a new sound joined it. I turned to my side and saw that Tristan's mare was still acting up. The mare reared again, this time higher, and she began to lose her footing in the soft turned up dirt. Before I knew it, she was crashing over backwards.

Tristan was a good enough rider to keep himself in control while trying to get out of harm's way, I could see that. However, the mare's timing wasn't quite in tune with Tristan's as she fell. She stumbled down and clambered to her feet a moment later, Tristan didn't.

I quick dismounted and drew the reins down from the horses' necks so I could keep a hold on them and kneeled down next to Tristan who was slowly sitting up.

"God Tristan, don't do that! Are you alright?" I had a mare do that to me a few years back and it didn't feel too good. Fortunately the horse missed me and I was fine. Tristan however didn't seem to be moving too gracefully as he tried to stand up.

"Ah, no, no I'm not alright." I grabbed his arm and helped him to sit back down without further injuring himself. I should have had him wiggle his hands and feet and stuff like that before letting him get up, but it was too late for that now.

"Alright, what hurts?" I took his head in my hands and looked into his eyes to make sure he didn't have a concussion. His hair was in the way and I suddenly remembered that I wouldn't know what to look for anyways.

"Not my head, not too much least ways." That's good; he probably doesn't have a concussion then. "It's my ankle; I got it caught in the saddle underneath her when she fell. It's probably broken." That's bad.

"Ok, ok, give me a minute to think." I rocked back on my feet as I stayed crouched down by him and ran a filthy hand through my hair, getting caught in merciless tangles as I did. I knew almost nothing about doctor stuff. I could take care of a horse pretty alright; I knew what to do in emergencies, what kind of medicine to use for different things. Sure I was no vet, but I knew quite a bit. But no matter how hairy and stubborn Tristan was, he was no horse. And either way, I knew nothing about broken bones. Typically, when a horse breaks a leg, it has to be put down depending on the break and which leg. Usually that's the best and easiest thing to do for it, unless it's like a million dollar race horse. Sure with modern technology legs were getting easier to save, but I didn't have technology, wouldn't know how to use it, and again, as I needed to remind myself a second time, I wasn't dealing with a horse.

"This wouldn't have happened if you had a bird or something, it would have warned you of danger…you know, since you're never caught off guard." I tried to pull his pants leg out of the way but it only hurt him more. "You really should get a hawk…" I stopped at the look of frustration he gave me and continued on a different path. "So what happened, were you distracted?"

"Just this one time….aye but it hurts." I could see him trying to bite back a cry.

I suppose the best thing to do would be to splint it, but I was worried about doing it wrong or causing him more pain. So I decided maybe I shouldn't. What if I pushed the bone the wrong way when I did it? That would make it worse. I started looking around to see if there was anything that might possibly help the situation but I saw nothing. Looking back at Tristan I saw that he was starting to turn a bit pale and I realized I had to stop stalling.

"Alright, I'm not really sure what to do. I don't want to touch it, I might make it worse, but let me look at it and see if its really broken and how bad. Then we'll go from there." One look confirmed it; it was most definitely broken, the bone was clearly askew in his shin and it looked mighty painful. I gently ran a hand down on it and I drew back as Tristan winced in pain. I had to get him back to the wall, now. Thankfully we were about a ten minute gallop away, but he couldn't gallop. I didn't want to leave him in case more Woads would come, which reminded me I had more reason to hurry. If I could get him on the horse we could walk back slowly together. It would take about twenty minutes though, maybe more. I decided that would be the best bet, but first, I had to get him mounted.

"Alright, let's get you mounted up." One look at the mare and I knew it would be a problem, she was still spooking a bit and Tristan was in no condition to ride her properly, there was no way he would be able to grip right with his legs and he was turning even paler than before. Instead I tied sown her reins to the back of the slightly calmer stallion that had been so good for me and proceeded to help Tristan stand.

By putting as much of his weight on me s possible, he was able to stand ok, but the moment he tried to rest his foot on the ground he cried out in pain and almost went down again. I helped him to hop over to the horse and pleaded with my eyes that he be a good boy for us. The stallion suddenly started to calm down, for which I was thankful, and I think he knew that he needed to behave. The task at hand needed cooperation. It also needed a lot of help; I have no idea how I'm going to get him on the horse.

He was a big horse, about 16 hands. If only they had been drilling their horses to bow or lay down today. Knowing I was stuck without a trick horse, I bit my lip and did what I could. In the end I stretched my leg out in front of me with my knee up and helped him to hop onto my knee with his good foot, then try and swing his leg over the saddle. It took a few minutes and a lot of pain on his part, but he didn't cry out again. Once settled I climbed on behind him and began guiding the horse back to the wall.

We were nearing the wall, the surroundings were getting familiar, and I let out a sigh of relief; we were going to make it. Tristan was white by this point and his body was starting to tremble. I know his leg must be in a great deal of pain. As soon as we came in view one of the residents saw us approaching and ran inside. A minute later I could make out the figure of Arthur hurrying outside, trying not to worry as he walked a bit faster than normal. Dagonet was close behind him.

I pulled to a stop and slid down carefully, trying not to jar the barely conscious form in front of me. A cold sweat was forming on his brow, causing his hair to plaster down on his face, and he barely raised his eyes when Arthur called out his name. He made to dismount but Arthur stopped him.

"You need to see a surgeon, and you need help down from there, come on." He motioned to Dagonet to step forward then turned to me. "What happened?"

"Woad, in the woods. He missed the arrow alright, but didn't fare so well when the horse fell on him. Almost made it out of the way, but his leg is broken." That should answer all of their questions. I stepped back and let Dagonet slowly pull Tristan down, being careful of his leg. He bumped it on the saddle halfway though and he went rigid for a moment before letting out a half strangled moan. As I stood there watching something inside of me moved, like a feeling of some sort. I was sad, upset…my friend was hurt. I looked up with a start as I acknowledged these words. I have a friend.


	15. Running

**Hey guys! So, my BF is back from England...yea! The world is right again...and because I'm so happy, look, another chapter! And guess what, I think the next one isn't far behind...that is, if you want it...let me know...(hint hint...) So, the snow thing in this chapter, for anyone who might not be priveleged enough to live in an area that nine out of ten times has cold and snowy winters...let me tell you...sometimes we get these snow storms that actually are soggy and wet...just like in the story; great for packing snow, bad for house roofs, and driving...and wlaking too, very slippery. Anyways, we don't get them often because I live in northern Pa and its usually pretty frozen snow, but anyways, we got a good one on Christmas overnight two or three years ago, out of no where, andit was gorgeous, I went riding in it right away, no body was outside at all! But the trees were bowed over like crazy with weight and I had to take detours around trees on our property like every fifteen feet. Anyways, just giving you guys an idea of what its like. Unless you already have to deal with snow...then happy shoveling this winter, glad i'll be at school to miss it! Ok so, I don't own King Arthur...hey...I could get them to do the shoveling...**

* * *

Time May Change

I waited around the stable area for an hour or so before my nerves got the best of me. I then hunted down Tristan. Luckily it was a short hunt; he was resting in his room. Arthur was sitting near his bed when I entered but he was swift to stand and relinquish the chair for my use. However, before I could sit, he motioned me towards the side of the room, indicating he wanted a word with me. If he even suggests that I did something to Tristan, I swear….

"What happened, more details this time?"

"I didn't do it, if that's what you're thinking." Just getting it out of the way.

"I didn't say you did, I asked what happened." God, people can be so annoying.

"We were riding in the woods when we were attacked by a Woad. It shot at Tristan, but his horse reared in fright and actually saved him. I threw a knife at it and killed, remind me to thank Galahad later for that, and then Tristan's horse fell over, presumably breaking his leg if I guessed right." I stared in his face as I spoke, imaging the wall behind his head, trying to pretend he wasn't there.

Arthur looked down towards the floor solemnly; I could tell that the injury of any of his knights made him unhappy. "You guess the right, his leg is broken just above the ankle. It's a small break though, painful nonetheless. They said it should heal quickly. No attempts at walking for at least a few days though, and only then with support. He also has a slight bump on his head, from the fall I suppose…"

"Is he going to be fine?" I only asked if his leg was broken, not for a friggin surgeon's report.

"He'll be fine." _Thud, _the door closes and his boots echo down the hall. Finally, he's gone.

As I sat down I realized that Tristan wasn't asleep as I had supposed he was. He hadn't made a sound the whole time but I could tell by his breathing alone that he was awake. I thought they would have given him _something_ to help with the pain, and usually 'something' somehow incorporates falling asleep.

I brush some of the slightly damp hair away from his face and two eyes are revealed to me as his eye lids slowly open.

"Hurt much?"

"Only a little."

"What did they give you, for the pain?" I ask, curious about medieval medicine.

"Nothing, wouldn't take anything from them." Well no wonder it hurts you big idiot. I suppose I would have done the same.

"Oh." I shift uncomfortably in the low wooden chair. "Guess you won't be riding for a few days."

"No. Take her out for me? Lancelot can deal with his own horse for a while I'm sure."

"Why not, the boy's always gotta be riding something." I mutter under my breath. Tristan raises an eyebrow slowly as he gradually unravels what I mean.

"He's not so bad." Oh I hope he's not talking about…. "He's good with the sword and as quick at the mouth as you, if not quicker." Oh, he meant like that….

"You know how it is, I just don't like dealing with people."

"Like Arthur?"

"Like people in general…yes Arthur."

"He's trying to be nice, he's a good man, I think you can see that."

"Perhaps I don't want to." I stood and made my way to the door.

"I grew to respect him as my commander, his cause is not like that of the other Romans, I could see that…but I never expected to think of him as a friend. He is a friend indeed though, you will see that in time."

"You're acting weird, you know that?"

"Maybe it's the pain getting to me, or perhaps I'm acknowledging that I am but human. And if that is the case, I also acknowledge that I need to rest." Looking at his face I saw drawn lines indicating he needed to sleep. The man hardly ever slept as it was, but with the day he had been having he probably needed it even more. Sleep is always the best medicine, I remember my mom used to say that when I was little.

Then she got hurt in that accident and she went to sleep. She was right, sleep healed everything for her; she never woke up. We tucked her in tight in the cold New Hampshire ground and said goodnight forever. My dad had to spend some time in the old iron cell for driving drunk and killing someone, but he got out pretty early. I still remember his face the day of my mom's funeral, it looked tired and worn, old before his time, just like Tristan's did right now. Looking at that face, I shuddered within and remembered that cold day. Never forgive, never forget….I needed to leave.

"I'll…I'll let you sleep then. I suppose I'll finally have my own room tonight?"

He gave a nod as he began drifting off to sleep, the pain finally subsiding as he drifted away slowly. "Krista?" I stop once more as I try making a clean exit. I look impatiently for him to say something. "Take the girl for a ride tomorrow?"

"Sure thing Tristan, no problem."

"She was acting strange yesterday, so strange…..maybe something's wrong….so strange….." _Click_. I close the door and quietly walk down the hallway. I had to go find Arthur, somebody, I needed to find out where I was sleeping. Then again, there was always the stable. It was only just coming on supper time, but I had lost my appetite. I decided to take a walk then maybe go to the stables and find myself a pile of hay. I wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone and that would be the perfect spot to avoid just about everyone.

Sleeping in a stable in the Roman-Brittan era was probably ot the best of ideas to do this time of year. I forgot that the weather is constantly changing, and usually just from one foul weather to another. The weather had been cold and rainy, overnight however, t became very cold and snowy. It was a bit drafty in the stable and though I was sheltered from the snow, the wind still got to me. I borrowed up in some clean hay and tried to sleep but sleep just wouldn't come. Finally sleep came, probably around three in the morning. Of course, I had stayed up till after midnight I'm sure, petting all of the horses.

By the time I fell asleep, I had tossed back and forth so much that the hay was strewn about quite a bit and I was even colder than before. I was over tired and grumpy too. A cat tried to climb in the hay with me not long before I had actually fell asleep but I threw it out of my way. Yes, threw. Not something I usually do…ok, never do, I don't want to hurt animals, just people, but I was really grumpy and it was annoying me. But then I felt bad, so I went and chased it down and took it back to the hay with me. I plumped it back up, burrowed in once again, and I was asleep. My dreams weren't too comforting though.

I kept seeing my mom, smiling at me, making me toast with cinnamon and sugar on it, then with raspberry jelly because I wasn't feeling good and that was all I would eat. I saw her laughing as she played dolls with me. Then I saw my dad yelling at her in a drunken rage, saw her trying to act as though nothing were wrong around me even though she was crying. I promised myself I would be like my mom, and act as though nothing were ever wrong. Eventually I became immune to the world, or at least for the most part; it still ate at me on the inside. At least my mom smiled.

But then I saw the flashing lights, the crunching of the car smashing, the glass breaking, my mom screaming, me crying. I can't really remember anything from the accident, I was so young, but the mind easily fills in the gaps….then the funeral….I'll never forget that. That was the day I vowed not to not let my dad ruin my life too. He didn't, he only made it completely miserable. I ruined my life on my own by becoming who I am. And I could see myself, ten, maybe fifteen years down the road, becoming my dad, only this time it was me lying face down on the pavement.

And that was when I woke up, gasping, in a cold sweat despite the gusts of wind blowing through the stables. I looked up and saw the ceiling of the stables, saw the stall next to me, Tristan's mare inside of it. I didn't know what time it was, but I was going riding. Horses were always my escape, now I felt like I needed to escape myself.

I got up, brushed the hay off of myself distractedly and took a glance outside. IT would be getting light soon, very soon. I wanted to leave before there were too many people up. My guess was that there were men up all night stationed as watch, but I could deal with them easily…a crowd of people was different though.

I took the horse out of her stall and crosstied her in the aisle way before fetching a brush and quickly grooming her. I was distracted by my dreams and thoughts still and didn't pay much attention. When I knew there wasn't any crusted mud or dirt in the way of the saddle I fetched her tack and quick threw it on. Then after making one last adjustment to the girth, I led her outside to the slowly brightening sky.

It was still snowing outside. It was tapering off gradually but it was definitely still coming down, and good. It was the really thick, wet heavy kind, the sort that cause roof damage but is absolutely perfect for snowball making and snowmen building. But I was going horseback riding, not playing. So I put one foot in the stirrup, and almost slipped my foot right through the stirrup. The snow had compacted on the bottom of my shoes and had made them slippery. I grumbled to myself and fixed my foot in the stirrup again. As I put my weight in the stirrup to mount up though, the horse, which had been standing patiently up until then, tossed her head and tried stepping away. I didn't have time to school Tristan's horse on standing still, so I swung my leg over anyways, and made a direct route for the gate before anything else delayed me. I was out of here, at least for the morning. I got through the gate easily and as soon as the horse was warmed up, I took off, regardless of the slippery snow and frozen ground. I needed the speed, I needed to get away. But the question is, how does one run away from their self?


	16. Warnings and Danger

**Well, its short, but I wrote it Saturday and Sunday...yesterday I was at my bf's all day, and I wanted to post it today. Besides, I felt it was a good place to leave off. So, I have to finish geting ready for work...I work during the day now instead of night shift...yea...still sucks though, getting up a little after 5 am every day. All well, enjoy the story. I knew where I wanted to go with in this chapter, but I was a bit etchy on the details, but I got an idea from the snow in the last chapter. And what is going on at my house? Pouring rain...again!Ok, off to work, bye!...I don't own King Arthur...still...**

* * *

Time May Change

I had been riding for near an hour when I began to get an uneasy feeling. The horse started tossing her head like she didn't want to be there, but I couldn't really depend on her for any hint of mischief because she had been acting weird the whole time. It was as though she wanted me off her back. At first I thought she was just being stubborn because she was used to only Tristan being on her, but then I began to realize that perhaps something was wrong. She kept hollowing out her back and shying away, but I told Tristan I would ride her so I wanted to at least take her out for a little exercise. Now she was acting stranger and I felt it too.

The air seemed tense all of the sudden and her movements became rather stiff. I looked down at her to see if anything was wrong when suddenly I heard the screeching of a bird about thirty feet off in the woods in front of me. I looked up just in time to see a young hawk dart from a tree. I would have taken a moment to admire the hawk when I realized that the hawk had just given me warning to the danger I sensed. There in the tree was a single Woad, drawing an arrow from his quiver.

Foolishly, I was unarmed, so I did the only sensible thing I could do; turn and run. The mare agreed wholeheartedly at first, but once we got a safe distance away, she started giving me trouble again. I slowed her to a canter so it wouldn't be too dangerous in the slippery snow that that was lying thick on everything. Every so often I would have to go around a bowed tree or duck under a heavy laden branch, but the shift in my weight triggered her to act up so I eventually settled with blocking the branches with my arm and getting covered in snow.

She was still cantering on when I saw a tree in the way that I would never be able to duck under. I knew I would have to slow her down and find a way around it, so I gently pulled back on her reins and sat down to bring her to a walk. Instead she tossed her head unhappily and snorted. I sat down deeper, sifting my weight into her back so she would have to slow down. Out of nowhere she got upset and bucked, hard. I was experienced enough to know to keep her head up and lean back against the direction that her body was throwing me, but that only made her buck worse.

I was unsure of what was wrong; perhaps she was upset about the bird? That didn't make sense though. She began tossing her head and fighting me insanely. Then it occurred to me that something might be wrong with her. I made to get down but she was still hopping around like crazy and in the slick snow it was hard to find a moment I could jump off and still keep her reins in hand without getting trampled. Figuring the best I could do was either jump off and fall on my butt, as I knew I would as soon as my feet hit the snow, or try and dismount slowly.

Taking my chances with the latter, I slipped my foot from the stirrup and began to swing it over. She began to calm down a bit as I eased off her back and I thought to myself that so long as she doesn't fall over we would be ok. But of course, nothing in life is ever ok, so naturally as soon as I thought this, her back foot slid out to the side, causing her to nearly topple sideways. She caught herself at the last moment, but I was still pounded into the frozen ground side first.

There was about six inches of snow to break my fall so I was, other than being completely covered in soaking wet snow, perfectly fine. The cold snow was quickly invading my already wet clothes. I was not completely saturated with water and it was chilling to the bone. At least the horse is ok, I think as I grit my teeth and glare at her. I go to stand up but I am quick to loose my feet in the snow. The ground is perfectly hard and snow slick, making a bit of a slide if one were to run and dive head first down a hill on it. A small part of my brain in the back briefly recalled eight or nine years ago, when I had done just that all afternoon on a hill near our house. However I needed to concentrate on the present.

I was just scrambling back to my feet when I heard, for the second time, a high pitched screeching of a bird. One look confirmed that it was the same hawk as the one who had given me warning ten minutes ago. I stopped and stared at it for a moment when I finally comprehended that something was once again wrong. I hardly had time to look up when I saw it coming. I let out a short yelp of surprise, but had no other time to react as a huge snow covered branch fell on me. All I remember is feeling sudden weight and my body crumbling back to the ground.


	17. What's Going On?

**Ok, just thought I'd mention that I wrote this one handed (so there may be some typos) while eating a really yummy apple...ok, I don't know why I had to share that...ubt it really was a good apple! Ok, I 'm just hungry cause I just got off work and I hadn't eaten. So, to the story. Um, I appologize for the end of this chapter, I was kind of forced to do change the second half of the chapter to third point of view...only this once though, I promise! It just wouldn't have worked any other way, and I just had to get in this part. It would have been much easier if I had just wrote the whole story in third person, I know...but its more personal this way and I thought it would help my story to writeit first person. Hey, my writing prof told me I should do all of my writing in first person based on true stuff form my life, mostly because he thought I was huilarious and had really good stories to tell and that my conversation stuff in what I wrote for him was good...so you know, I was told to do stuff first person...not that this is a true story or anything...please, I live in pa...not New Hampshire, and my school is NOT in Vermont. Although, a lot of the horse stuff is true...besides the point, I'm rambling ... again...Ok then, enjoy! I don't own King Arthur...(pouts)**

* * *

Time May Change

It was a weird feeling. I knew I wasn't really awake, and yet, it felt like I was. I felt really light, like the gravity was turned on low, but not like I was floating or anything. Another odd feeling was that I was hearing voices everywhere, but they sounded kind of muffled, yet enhanced at the same time.

Slowly the voices became more distinct and I could pick out individuals after a moment or two and out names to them.

"Mom?" It was unusual, that I still remembered what her voice sounded like. I guess a mother's voice just isn't something one forgets easily.

"Krista, I'm here." I blinked a few times and her figure began to come in view. Everything looked all hazy and sorts but I could still make her out.

"Mom where am I?" I approached her carefully, unsure of what to expect.

"Its ok Krista, I'm here, nobody's going to hurt you." I could see her waiting for me to come to her, and I went willingly.

"Mom, I've missed you so much. You wouldn't believe the things dad did." I ran to her and threw myself in her arms, the only loving arms that had ever held me.

"Oh wouldn't I?" I looked up and screamed. It was my mom holding, but her face was my father's. It was a horrible nightmare and I couldn't escape it. My body began to freeze like ice and I ached all over. I didn't know what was going on and my father was laughing like he always did when he was drunk.

"Get back in the house and clean up the mess in the kitchen, the gal's coming over later and I don't want it looking like a dump.

'The gal', the name he stuck on the woman that eventually became my step-mom. Like she ever cared if the kitchen was a mess, she never saw it, she sat in her Lazy-boy chair all day puffing on cigarettes and sharing a bottle of brandy with my dad.

"Get moving brat." _Smack._ It had been years since he last did that, so many years. He never hit me before mom died, but he angry after her death, and became violent. He only once beat me though. It was after that he started letting me take riding lessons. There was a lot of crap going on in the house, especially _her_ moving in after he married her, I wasn't too happy about it. But around the time I reached the eighth grade, he had stopped smacking me across the face. But he would threaten, and I would still remember the sting of that one time.

_Smack. _"I said get moving. The garbage needs to be taken out and there are dishes everywhere, don't make me tell you again. And you can fetch me another beer while you're at it."

"No, you're not real, you're dead…you can't make me." I stand defiantly before him but somehow I feel like a small child again, and I am scared. I can feel my knees tremble slightly as I try to stand tall.

"Oh no? I can't make you, we'll just see about that." And he was suddenly upon me. I saw a fist coming from the right, the left just behind it, and I didn't think to react. I went down with him swinging like a madman and I shrieked.

"Dad, stop, please stop! It's me, Krista, dad! No, stop, stop, please stop!"

"Krista? Krista? Krista can you hear me?"

"No, stop….stop, please..."

"Krista, wake up, its ok, Krista….Krista!"

"Wha…what…."

"Its ok, relax." I finally surface enough that I am registering what this strange new voice is saying and I realize that it was all just a dream. My eyes begin to flutter open as I gradually take recognition to the voice.

"Arthur…." My eyes finally peel completely apart, which I instantly regret, and I snap them back shut for another moment or two. Again I open them, and after taking a few long weary blinks, I am able to focus on the concerned face bending over me. "Arthur…what happened?"

His face relaxed a bit and he sat back in the chair a bit more, which was better than his on the edge, almost falling off from leaning forward, pose, that he had been holding.

"You were knocked unconscious, we found you in the woods yesterday, near covered in snow with a branch on top of you. It must have fell and hit you." Then it all suddenly came back to me.

"That hurt you know." And then, the pain. "Ow, it still does." I felt like a horse rolled on me good and hard a few times.

"I imagine it will hurt for sometime…you almost died to be honest."

"How'd you know where to find me?" I try to sit up but Arthur holds up his hand telling me no. From the jolt of pain I received in my back from the action I decided to let him win this one.

"We didn't. We didn't see you all morning, but we thought perhaps you were hiding in the stables somewhere and thought best not to disturb you. It was when I went to see Tristan that he asked if you had taken his horse out. I hadn't thought to check the stalls, as the weather was rather dangerous to go riding unless by necessity. And of course we found her stall empty. We checked with the guard who had been on duty that morning and they said they saw nothing. We didn't think it likely, but we checked with the evening guard just in case. They said they saw a figure slip out close to morning on a grey horse but thought nothing of it. We figured that was you. But why you hadn't returned yet was a sign that something was wrong."

"I guess it was. So how exactly did you find me in the woods?" I started rubbing my eyes as they began to feel heavy again.

"You should rest." He began to get up, but I quick grabbed his hand and restrained him, which ultimately sent a dizzy spell upon me.

"No, I want to know."  
"Very well. We went out after you. The snow had all but stopped, but the ground was still slick, so we had to ride carefully. I left Lancelot here to look after things while I was out and took along Gawain in hopes that he could possibly try and fill in for the loss of Tristan's tracking skills and sharp eyes. He did figure out the general direction, but not so good as Tristan." At this I smiled, knowing first hand how good Tristan's senses were. "I also took Dagonet along, just in case I needed another set of arms. Good thing too, I needed the two of them to lift the branch. It was so heavy with snow….but enough, you need to rest. You're three rooms down from Tristan's, but I don't think either of you will be visiting anytime soon. If you need anything…..rest well." But I didn't hear him, I was already fast asleep.

(Third person change…sorry….)

When Arthur learned what happened, he knew he had to act. This girl, this stranger with the wild tongue and icy glare was his responsibility. He had tp go find her. He knew Gawain and Dagonet were his best hope for aiding him, so as soon as they could, they were on the trail.

Gawain got them going in the right path, but oddly enough, there was a bird that kept circling overhead in the same direction. About an hour in to the ride, perhaps more, they heard a rather familiar sound; a horse neighing in the distance.

"Tristan's…up ahead." They increased their pace slightly, careful on the slick ground, and listened as the horse cried out again. They soon rounded the bend and they saw the mare standing there tossing her head, neighing to the other horses. But there was no Krista.

Then they saw it; the large snow laden branch now blocking the path, and they could just make out Krista beneath it. Arthur was off his horse in a moment, kneeling by her head.

"Krista? Krista? Can you hear me? Krista? My God she's freezing. Gawain, Dagonet, the branch." The two of them were just able to heft it up off her, so buried in snow it was. Arthur then signaled Dagonet over to help him while Gawain chopped the branch into quarters and threw it off of the path.

After a close look Dagonet determined there were no broken bones, just a nasty hit and very low body temperature. "We need to get her back where it's warm. Get her warm again, and she should be fine." Arthur was already covering her in his cloak.

"Help me get her on the horse. Gawain, you ready?" Gawain was just throwing the last hunk of wood to the side. He then picked up his axe, brushed the snow off it and nodded.

"All set, lets get out of here." Gawain lead Tristan's horse back, who now seemed perfectly content. They all knew they wouldn't have found Krista near so quick had the mare not stayed close and alerted them where she was. They were all thankful for the time spent teaching their horses to stay put, but the question puzzling them was, what happened to Krista? They all knew she was an experienced rider, true anything could happen, but what could have gone wrong.

As soon as Krista was better rested, these were just some of the questions that Arthur would put to her. Something had happened, and he was going to find out what. It was about time he found out more about her too. Arthur shook his head after he left the room. Something just didn't seem right.


	18. The Flight of Trust

**Holy crap it's been like, FOREVER!!!! I'm really sorry, for anyone who's actually still reading this, I never meant for it to take this long, seriously. So much has been going on though! And still going on!!! Mid-terms next week, going camping with horses down in Gettysburg this weekend, riding through the battle fields, love it!!!! Horse show in West Virginia next weekend...doing really good this year, two shows so far, got a second and a first...I beat girls from Princeton!!! If anyone reading this happens to be from Princeton, ..., so there. I love riding at college!!! Even if I am riding English, well,... next week's show is western, but I still love bareback the best! Anyways, here's the next chapter, its a bit longer than the others...I think... Hey, something cool actually happened at school, the guy who wrote Dances with Wolves, Micheal Blake, came and spoke...very interesting. Ok, ok, on to the story. Oh yeah, I don't own it, because if I did, I'd be locked up for being a very negligent owner...how long did it take me to update? Poor Bors would starve to death!!!!**

* * *

Time May Change

"Her saddle!" I bolted upright in bed as I spoke. Ignoring the pounding in my head I scramble out of the bed and try to walk to the door, mindful of the fact that the room is spinning much faster than I would have liked it to. In my head I knew that there was _really_ only one door, but my eyes were telling me otherwise and it hurt my brain to try and figure out just which one would let me into the hall, and which one would just cause more pain from walking into solid wood. Somehow in the end I ended up finding the right one, although I did have more trouble trying to find the correct door knob. The result was me crashing through the door and falling onto the floor of the hallway.

Another time I might have been more patient….maybe…but I had to get down to the stable. My brain wasn't functioning its best and I had to get there before I forgot my mission. _The saddle, it has to be the saddle…_ I stumbled down the hall, banging the wall occasionally as I made my way outside. The cold air stung my face as I stepped into the snow. I was caught off guard and almost turned back inside, but I was too determined. I trekked forward, slipping here and there in the snow. I fell once, soaking my thin night clothes instantly, but I didn't care. I scrambled to my feet and kept on.

I never noticed the odd stares from the scarce people milling about. Most people chose to stay inside with the foul weather knocking on the doors, but I had something that needed to be done. The ground was pitching back and forth, but I could see the stable looming in front of me, swinging side to side like the rest of the world. I collapsed against the door and let myself in. After taking a moment to catch my breath, I made my way to her stall. There it was; the saddle, I reached my goal. I turned it over and made to run my hand over the soft saddle pad underneath but stopped. _I knew it!_ There in the underside of the saddle pad, right where the saddle puts direct pressure on the horse's sensitive back was a nasty, painful looking, bramble. It was small, it could have been easily overlooked by someone, and it was pressed into the fabric deep, showing that it had been there a few days. No wonder the poor horse threw a fit every time a rider shifted on her back!

I pulled it out, bit by bit, taking little threads of fabric with it. I could only imagine that the mare's back had a sore on it. Sure enough, I let myself in her stall to check and there was a raw spot rubbed into her right where the rider sits down. Every time their weight shifted backwards, or sat down deeper in the saddle, it drove the bramble right into her skin. I didn't now how the bramble got to be on her saddle pad, but it was gone now. Nevertheless, she probably needed a few days to heal up, convenient really, Tristan and I both being hurt. Speaking of which…

I let myself out of the stall, intending to check on Tristan and inform him of my discovery. I was just latching the door, and making sure it was done good and tight when a voice interrupted my thoughts.

"When Vanora told me she saw you coming down here I was hesitant to believe her, yet here you are, why?"

"You of all people, Lancelot, should know of my stubbornness by now."

"Indeed. Still, what brings you out here, do you desire more trouble?"

"Nay, I seek only to solve problems today."

"That is fortunate, because Arthur wishes to speak with you. I think he has a few questions to put to you."

My face paled notably, I could feel it, but I pushed that aside for the moment and decided to deal with the more direct problem at hand. "Tristan's mare is hurt."

Lancelot's stern face softened and he came forward to see what was wrong. "Was she hurt in the storm yesterday, when you fell…?"

"No, she was acting strange all day, even when Tristan was on her the day previous, that was why I got off her initially, to see if there was a problem; there was, look." I pointed in the stall at the sore, red spot standing out against her light grey coat. Even from the stall door it looked painful.

Lancelot let a low whistle through his teeth as he slipped inside the stall. He ran his hands gently over her, watching her ears for reactions as he did. Contact clearly agitated it as she put her ears back whenever his hand grew close, and tossed her head upon contact.

"Obviously it hurts her Lancelot, you don't have to play surgeon anymore."

"I'm merely making sure that it won't get infected. It should be fine so long as whatever caused this is stopped."

I felt a flush of embarrassment on the inside, but I would never let him know that. Instead I pulled the saddle pad up from underneath her saddle and held it up for him to see. I pointed to the loose thread and slightly ripped fabric that had recently housed the culprit. "Here, there was a bramble caught in her saddle pad. I don't know how it got there, or how long it was there. She probably had a minor rub mark on her yesterday when I went riding, but I regret to say I wasn't paying much attention when I tacked her up.

Lancelot examined the saddle pad closely, pulling out a few tiny fragments I had missed due to my poor visibility. He placed it back under the saddle and nodded. Everything should be fine now. Tristan is well on the way to recovery, another two or three days and he should be well enough to ride, she should be ready by then. You however…"

"I know, back to bed." I gave the mare a farewell pat and left without so much as a glance to Lancelot.

"Arthur still wants answers, there's no avoiding it." Drat, life just never is fair, is it?

Somehow the return journey to my bed was a lot harder than the trip out to the stable. About halfway back my legs decided that they didn't want to move anymore, and I found myself leaning against a doorway dejectedly, half asleep.

"You look lost."

"Not lost, just resting." I mumble, not caring if they understood me or not.

"Well, we usually use beds for that. Let me give you a hand."

"Don't need help…" but I didn't stop Galahad from taking my arm and guiding me down the hall to my door. I leaned heavily on his shoulder as the door creaked open, and somehow, knowing that bed was so near made me only more tired. Another five feet and Galahad might not have made it, but he got me to the bedside, me practically asleep on his shoulder already. It was early evening, and I had spent the last day in bed, but I still needed more sleep. I don't even remember my head hitting the pillow.

Something about lying in bed all day just seems very appealing. It's not something I've done much, and likewise it's not something I often want to do. But this one time, it just seemed nice. Normally I would hate to be cooped up indoors all day, but today, I just wanted to rest. I probably received a nasty concussion when the branch hit me, which would explain why I just wanted to sleep, but whatever the reason, I didn't want to leave my bed for a long time.

"I know you're awake, Arthur's coming to speak with you." Correction, I want to be anywhere but in this bed.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" I grumble as I roll over and glare Tristan.

"I made a special trip just to see you."

I roll my eyes. "Three doors down the hall is a special trip?"

"So I was sick of being in bed all day." I smiled, knowing how that felt. I wiggled my way to a sitting position so I could better talk then got to business.

"I know why your mare was acting so weird the last couple of days."

"I know, Lancelot told me how you found the bramble in her saddle pad. It shouldn't have been there, nor should it have been overlooked. I'll be more careful in the future, thank you. I only wish you could have found it before you were hurt."

"What's another knock on the head right?" I knocked my knuckles on my skull. I pulled my hand back in surprise as the sound of wood being knocked upon rang out.

"May I come in?" Of course, only Arthur would be polite enough to knock first. Arthur nodded at Tristan, who replied likewise and left the room. I soon found myself under the gaze of Arthur's eyes once more.

"I believe you have quite a story for me. Care to share?" I was about tell him all about Goldilocks and the Three Bears, but the look on his face was one of little tolerance, besides, I don't think he would have understood the joke anyways.

"So what do you want to hear first?"

"Well, let's keep it simple, what happened yesterday?" I grimaced at the memory.

"There really isn't much to tell."

I gave him the brief version of the tale, not wanting to make a big deal of it. "Really, it was nothing, hurt like crazy earlier today, but I'm still alive, it's no big deal."

I can see Arthur shaking his head in disbelief. I'm not exactly normal where I come from, I've learned to take a harsher beating in life, for a girl in the fifth century, I'm down right alien. I can almost hear the words turning in his head, what kind of woman is this? But no, Arthur is more polite than that, instead, he says…

"Who are you?" Yes, translation, what planet do you come from?

"No one of importance, no one bothered over me before, no one cared about me, just let me be, why should now be any different?"

"In case you failed to notice, we did not leave you lying under that tree branch, obviously some people care about you."

I laugh at his remark. "It's your duty to watch over us, caring has nothing to do with it, I told you, no one cares about me." I painfully roll over and face the wall, trying to block out stinging memories.

"I do not know about your past, but I know there are those here that do and would care about you, if only you would let them, if only you would see it." I heard the sound of wood scraping on wood as the chair was pushed back. A moment later the door creaked open and shut again. I was alone, at last, and I cried.

It took me all of two seconds to realize that crying really, really hurt my ribs, but I didn't let it stop me, I just cried all the more, as it reminded me of how hard I had been trying to push everyone away.

Despite the protests of my body, and of course, Arthur, I went to the tavern the next night. I had laid in bed long enough going over my personal life time line. I had brooded and contemplated too much and had to get out. So, I went to the tavern.

I made my way directly to the table I had come to call 'ours', the 'our' meaning mine and Tristan's. Somehow I wasn't all that surprised to see Tristan already there. Across the room was Galahad, throwing knives as usual. Something was different this time. He wasn't leaning over someone's shoulder constantly, badgering them for advice or a demonstration. (probably because his two favorite subjects were currently injured) But also, he wasn't looking to see if we were watching or not, he was all concentration and focus, he was finally learning to become his own. I relaxed into my chair with this realization, and I swear Galahad felt it, for at the moment, he looked up and smiled, and I do believe he was almost saying thanks.

Suddenly something shocking caught my eye. Lancelot! He was sitting at a quiet table in a corner with but one woman and it looked as though they might have been having an actual conversation. Not only that, but they both seemed to be enjoying it. Whatever it was, I could tell that Lancelot's charm was still working, because the girl reached over suddenly and wrapped her arms around him, planting a kiss on his cheek. I honestly think he looked surprised by this!

Tristan and I both burst out in laughter. Clearly I wasn't the only one studying our surroundings. His face, the whole scene, was truly comical. Tears of laughter mixed with the physical pain from laughing. A genuine smile, for somehow I knew, whatever it was exactly that just happened, I influenced it, if not caused it. Looking across at Tristan, I saw him smiling back at me.

"How's your leg?"

"It's getting there, slowly, hard to get around though. You?"  
"Oh my leg feels fine." He makes a face behind his hair, barely visible, but still I see it. "Oh, alright, yea, I'm in pain, but I'm managing. How, I don't know, but I am, and that's about the most you'll get from me so don't ask again." I see his eyebrows elevate and I smile. "Thank you for asking though."

"Likewise. Shall we get a drink then?"

"No, no, I wish to go outside."

"Are you certain?"

"If I weren't certain, I wouldn't have suggested it!"

I stand and walk outside. The cool crisp air chills me and find Tristan's warm cloak soon wrapped around me. it was much more pleasant than the last time, then I was scared, and sick, and hurt. This time, I'm just hurt…and cold of course. I sate up at the stars for a moment, just enjoying the sounds of the night. Unfortunately, the noise of tavern was carrying and the sounds of the night were much less enjoyable. Still, I close my eyes and listen.

"Get back in there Lancelot, she'll be missing you."

"It amazes me how you do that, how, how do you do that?" I don't bother to turn around, just tell him to ask Tristan. As I knew he would, Tristan replies that it's a secret, only those suited for scouting would know." Ah, so I'm suited for scouting!

My head bolts up as I hear a familiar screech in the woods. I run as best I can, more like a hobble, towards the sound. I can hear Tristan making his way behind me, Lancelot however, bolted ahead. I curse lack of broken limbs and swear to take care of that later, but right now…

There she is, I see her flying low through the tree, only, something is clearly wrong.

Her flight is choppy, I see her falter considerably and she flies lower and lower. I wait and watch as she tries to steady her descent, but I know its useless, I step forward and catch her. She protests wildly, but I don't care, her left wing is hurt, and I want to help her.

Tristan carefully takes the hawk from me and examines the wing. An arrow had pierced it and was still lodged painfully in the sparse flesh of her wing. It was an arrow of the Woads, and as I knew she would not have been able to fly far like that, we knew they were near by. Curse those stupid Woads. They probably shot her because she had helped me out twice that day. The vile creatures! I knew Tristan would take care of her, no doubt about that. And I was more than certain that I had just got him the hawk that I had been badgering him about.

Lancelot, clearly, understood that there were Woads nearby as he had his sword at the ready.

"No, not that close. I think this may have been a warning, if anything. I believe they are moving out, farther from us. For how long…who can say, but they're gone."

"No danger?"

"Sorry Lancelot, go have fun with your gal while she's still around." I dismiss him as Tristan and I make our way to his room. The hawk, I knew, would heal so enough, as would we, but trust, for all of us, was the problem.


End file.
